#i SEE YOU ms reid

[evermore118]

the Ottawa Centaurs only having one alternative captain leaving room for Shane to become an alternative captain in gc7 where Shane and Ilya can be captains together

[hyohaehyuk]

leticia22ma: ‘working with sam is like slipping on a glove that fits really well….wait, is that dirty? An old sock’

More angle of this moment (x) (x) (x) 

[pathologicalreid]

hi! i was wondering if i could request a spencer x fem kindergarten teacher! reader who has to be interviewed by the team when something happens to one of her students (they find him) and spencer sees her and is just like in love immediately. thank you so so much!

kindergarten crush | S.R.

when one of your students goes missing, the BAU sends the A-team to ask you some questions

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: allusions to child abuse/endangerment but nothing detailed, kindergarten teacher!reader, spencer is smitten, emily is such an older sister, average cm case stuff word count: 1.86k a/n: ugh if you know how much i love teachers then you know how much i loved writing this!!!! tysm for requesting!

“Don’t teachers leave school when it ends?” Emily asked, following the secretary through the elementary school hallways.

The secretary glanced behind her to make sure Spencer was still following, “Contract hours end at four in the afternoon, which is about twenty minutes after the last bell,” she responded. “Some teachers are in charge of after-school clubs or they’ll stay to grade or plan for the next day, but the rest head home at the end of the day,” she continued.

Emily nodded in understanding, “And when does Ms. Y/L/N usually leave for the day?”

For a moment, the secretary’s resigned expression faltered to one of concern, “Once all of her students leave for the day.”

“Is that usually at a different time every day?” Spencer asked, shoving his hands in his pockets as they turned another corner, the walls were coated in colorful flowers with the names of what he could only assume were the kindergarteners scrawled on them.

There was nothing but a sigh from the secretary as she considered her answers, “That might just be a better question for you to ask her.” She continued leading the way until she stopped in front of a door that was being held open by a doorstop, knocking on the door, she peeked her head in, “Y/N?”

From where he was standing, Spencer could see your head peek out from beneath a desk, but once you recognized that you had unexpected guests, you stood up straight, “Oh, hi,” you greeted, hastily walking around the clusters of tables as you made your way to the door.

“Y/N Y/L/N?” Emily asked, pulling her credentials out when you confirmed your name, Spencer followed suit, “We’re Agent Prentiss and Dr. Reid with the FBI’s behavioral analysis unit, do you have the time to answer a few questions about a case we’re working on?”

The bright smile that had initially been on your face quickly fell as you eyed the FBI credentials in front of you, “Oh, Cody,” you murmured. Stepping to the side, you gave the two federal agents space to enter your classroom.

Prentiss thanked the secretary before stepping into your space, “Oh, it’s colorful in here,” she said.

“It’s a kindergarten classroom,” Spencer responded quickly, “Studies show that there’s a link between bright colors and brain development, so these colors are probably conducive to a productive learning environment.”

He went over to the side of your classroom, watching you as you nervously wrapped your arms around yourself, “Thank you?” You said quizzically, not sure if you should take what he was saying as a compliment, “You are here about Cody, right? Cody Jenkins?”

Spencer nodded, “We are, you knew immediately, though.”

You moved your hand to cover your heart as if it was racing, “I was worried when he wasn’t here yesterday, but I knew when I didn’t see him today that something was wrong.” Your eyes flickered between Emily and himself, waiting for either one of them to say something, “Oh my god, is he okay?”

“Why were you so worried when Cody didn’t come to school for two days?” Emily asked, tilting her head to the side, raven black hair catching in the fluorescent school lighting.

Sitting down at your desk, you sighed, “Cody loves school. He’d never miss a day unless it was absolutely necessary – I’m the one who brought the first concern to the administration that there might be problems at home, but…”

Raising her dark eyebrows in curiosity, Emily shared a look with Spencer, “But what?”

Watching you, Spencer noticed the way you nervously fiddled with a beaded bracelet on your wrist, although he couldn’t quite make out what the lettered beads spelled, he was able to deduce that the bracelet was important to you. “What’s on your bracelet?” He asked, leaning forward and placing his elbows on his knees, he craned his head to try and read it on his own.

“Oh,” you said, looking down at the bracelet as if you needed reassurance that it was still there, “A student made it for me a long time ago. When I was still a student teacher,” you looked at the beaded creation fondly, “The mascot was the dolphins, so it just says ‘dolphin’. Spelled with an F, of course, because she was four.”

Once he knew what the bracelet said, he was able to make out the words, even noting the dolphin charm at the end of the word, “You care a lot about your students,” he said, stating the obvious, but the words seemed to put you at ease. “What do you know about Cody’s home life?”

Your eyes widened as you looked back up at Spencer and he tried to make himself seem as friendly as possible. “I know his parents have had some trouble – his dad has a bad history, as I’m sure you know, but his mom is a good person,” you said, reaching your hand up and scratching the back of your neck.

“But she never left Cody’s father,” Emily said questioningly, seeking confirmation more than anything else.

Crossing your arms in front of your stomach, you shrugged, “I’ve never been in that situation before, I don’t get to speak on the difficulty of leaving, but I can tell you that she’s a good person – she loves her son.”

“You care a lot about your students,” Spencer noted aloud, he looked around at the clusters of tables – each table was stocked with the same supplies. You even had a snack station at the back of your classroom.

Quickly, you nodded, “I don’t believe in kids getting a lesser education just because they don’t have the money or the support system at home. I do what I can,” you admitted. “Do you… do you think Cody’s dad did something to him?”

Sadly, Emily affirmed your question, “He’s a person of interest in the case.”

Pressing your lips in a thin, white line, you slouched back into your office chair, “Sometimes I wonder if there’s more to do. The state requires me to teach these kids about stranger danger, but last year a majority of AMBER Alerts that went out were for family abduction.”

“I’m sorry that you know that, Ms. Y/L/N,” Spencer told you.

You brushed off his apology, “For eight hours a day, five days a week, it’s my job to keep these kids safe – even if that means knowing things that I don’t like.”

Both Spencer and Emily accepted this, and they continued to ask you a few questions about what you knew about Cody. From your point of view, he was just a kid trapped in a bad situation, and he couldn’t help but wonder if it ever hurt you to send him home at the end of the day.

As the two of them left the elementary school, he shook his head in disbelief, “She made three reports on the father, and none of them were taken seriously by the school.”

“I know, Reid,” Emily commiserated, “So, the teacher?”

Her question came when the two of them piled into the SUV, giving her a bewildered look, Spencer furrowed his brows, “What about her?”

Emily scoffed, “’You care so much about your students,’” She said in a mocking voice, taking one hand off the wheel and placing it on her chest, “’Oh, I’m so sorry that you have to know that information’. What was that about the colors in her classroom?”

Rolling his eyes, Spencer sat back in the passenger seat, “Okay, first of all, I do not sound like that. Second of all, I was building rapport – you should try it sometime.”

She chuckled from the driver’s seat, tossing a piece of paper in his general direction before placing her hands near the bottom of the steering wheel, “Here, this is for you.”

“What is it?” He asked as he took the paper and unfolded it.

Humming, Emily didn’t even look as she responded, “I wrote down her room number for you, so you can go ask her out once this case is over.”

Your door was closed when he got there and he wasn’t quite sure if he should knock or just give up. It wasn’t a far drive to get to your school from Quantico, and if he could ever work up the courage to make the drive again, he could always try then.

Lifting his hand to knock, he hesitated again, opening his palm and letting his hand drop to his side. “This is ridiculous,” he mumbled to himself, taking the sticky note that Emily had ‘gifted’ him and triple-checking the room number as if his memory and your name on the door weren’t enough confirmation.

Giving up, he turned around, stuffing the paper in his pocket as he did so, and almost running into you in the process, “Oh!” You said, stumbling back and taking a moment to reorient yourself before meeting his eyes. “Oh,” you repeated, softer this time, “Dr. Reid, it’s nice to see you again.”

“Spencer,” he corrected and immediately cringed. “I mean, I’m not here in any professional capacity, so… you can just call me Spencer.”

Flashing him a bright smile, you grinned in response, “It’s nice to see you again, Spencer.” You proceeded to tell him he could call you by your first name before inviting him into your classroom.

Looking around the room, the colors of the space once again made him feel welcome, “You’re here late,” he observed, looking up at the clock and noticing that it had passed your contract hours while he stood outside your door.

You nodded, “It’s the first of the month tomorrow, so I need to switch over my calendars and everything.” You went to pick up a dry-erase marker from the whiteboard, “Um, have you… did you find Cody?”

“Yes,” he responded immediately, remembering the excuse he had given the team when he told them he was going back to visit you. Morgan and Emily weren’t likely to let him forget. “He’s safe, and it looks like he’ll be able to stay with his mom,” he informed you, relishing the way his words put you at ease.

Any remaining stiffness in your stature faded, and the weight of your missing student was officially off of your shoulders. “Thank you – and thank you for coming back to let me know,” you said, putting your hands behind your back, the two of you seemingly at an impasse.

Taking a deep breath Spencer braced himself, “I actually didn’t come back for that. No, I mean, I did. I wanted to let you know that Cody was safe because you were worried and he’s a kid so obviously that was something that I thought you deserved to know since-“

“Spencer?” You said quizzically, smiling at him as he rambled on about your previously missing student, “What else was there?”

His eyes widened as you smiled at him, “Would you want to go out? With me?”

Your smile dropped from your face, and he began to emotionally prepare himself to lay face down on his couch tonight, but what you said next surprised him, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

[enderlovez]

Oooooo I have a Spencer x germaphobe reader where everyone knows how Spencer is with germs, which isn’t that bad. But imagine everyone’s surprise when they find out he has a huge crush like I mean in love with their coworker who is an extreme germaphobe (think of Ms, Pillsbury from glee) so she’s extra clean but he doesn’t mind he only has eyes on her so he tries to help her while also helping himself and she already has a crush on him but thinks he sees her as a patient in a lab even when he doesn’t but their feelings come to surface and they get a lil dirty lol angst, smut, and fluff thank u❤️

Germaphobe, Too

Spencer Reid x Female Germaphobe Reader WORD COUNT: 3600+ (yeah I got a little carried away)

Summary: You hate germs more than anything else in the world, and Spencer is so very much in love with you, so he's always trying to help you in any way he can — little does he know, that maybe you're feelings about the situation are a little bit different.

Content Warning: reader shows traits of obsessive compulsive disorder, germaphobia and germs, probably misinformation about germaphobia, NSFW content, reader is a freak, dry humping, reader bites Spencer a few times, miscommunication, Spencer likes boobs, groping, nipple play (sort of), unprotected vaginal sex (wrap it before you tap it), virginity loss on both ends, Spencer doesn't pull out, and I think that's it!

A/N I've never actually watched Glee so I went on a bit of a search-spree to try and find out how I would write this, so I hope I did it justice! Also, thank you so much for being the first person in my inbox, you have no idea how excited I was when this popped up, and I hope I did your idea justice!

────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ──────

From the moment you joined the Behavioral Analysis Unit, everyone knew you were different — from the way you open doors with your sleeves rather than your bare hands, to how you scrub your hands raw after touching something that's not even really that dirty.

And it's not necessarily a bad thing that you're so conscious of these things, it can just be a little... difficult to navigate sometimes.

Take that one time for example, when you were helping out on a case! Morgan had no writing utensils on him, so without thinking, plucked a pen from the breast pocket of your blouse. To anyone else, it might not have seemed like such a big deal, but you were close to tears.

To put it plainly, you are a germaphobe. You're like a female version of their very own Doctor Spencer Reid, but on steroids, and somehow still a whole lot more sociable despite this fact!

Seriously. It's not to say they don't still see you as the strange new girl doing 'strange-new-girl' things, nor is it to say they don't frequently talk about you when you're not around, but they think you might just be the sweetest human being to ever grace the BAU.

Which is why it really shouldn't have seemed like such a secret, shouldn't have shocked everyone as much as it did, that Spencer was absolutely and irreversibly smitten with you.

At first, it was just little things like watching you from across the room with this strange look on his face — he was just watching the strange new girl doing 'strange-new-girl' things!

When he started spending more time around you than anybody else at work, and when it became apparent that he preferred your quiet company, it was just because you showed some similar traits to him, right? Nobody thought anything different, because come on, this is Spencer we're talking about here.

But in truth, Spencer is beyond mesmerized by you, the most beautiful woman he's ever met, and so kind to everyone even though they clearly treat you different to your other coworkers.

The poor man doesn't think he could ever admit this to you, though, considering he's a blabbering mess of hot skin and stutters every time he talks to you. So instead of further embarrassing himself (and giving Morgan ammunition to tease him for the rest of eternity), he shows his affection towards you in other ways.

Spencer himself is not a big fan of germs, so he can understand, to an extent, how you must feel most of the time. You've explained it to him before, while he was standing beside you at your desk, watching as you wiped the surface down with an antibacterial wipe.

"I know it probably seems like I overreact, but it's not something I can just turn off," you'd said to him in a whisper once. "I don't do this because I want to annoy people or make life harder. It's just... if I don't, I feel like I'll unravel."

────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ──────

Sometimes it feels like the world is too loud. A stranger is screaming in your ear, you can't see them or touch them, but they're there; there's a bee buzzing in front of your face, but you can't swat it away.

How are you supposed to get rid of something you can't see?

You can't — it's as simple as that, but you can try you're very best.

As if sensing that your thoughts are headed somewhere unsavory, Spencer appears beside you on a rolling chair, as he does most days.

Out of all your coworkers, he's the only one that doesn't poke fun at you behind your back. That's how it's been your whole life, people testing your boundaries and teasing you for something you have no control over, so it's... a nice change of pace.

"Good morning, Spencer," you say softly, offering him a warm smile before turning back to your work. "How are you today?"

"Good—um, good morning," he responds awkwardly, smiling even though you're not looking at him anymore. You see it out of the corner of your eye, his little smile and his firetruck-red face, smiling faintly to yourself as you type away on your laptop.

You ignore how he completely dismisses your question, knowing he'd probably just say the same thing as always — 'Yeah, I'm doing great, thank you. As—as long as you're doing alright.'

He always gets so strange around you, and while you try your best to ignore it most of the time, it still irks you.

No, he doesn't join the teasing with Morgan and Jareau when they think you can't hear them, but he still treats you differently.

"I got you something," he says in a quiet voice, reaching into his bag and pulling out a book. You eye him nervously as he carefully places it onto your desk, using one finger to push it towards you. A tiny smile pulls at your cheeks when you see it's encased in a protective plastic film, but it quickly drops when you see what the actual book is.

'Overcoming Obsessive Compulsive Disorder: A Journey to Recovery' by David Veale and Rob Willson.

You peel the plastic away, tossing it into the little trash can under your desk and sanitizing your hands before picking up the bright yellow book, opening the front cover with a blank expression.

It's not like you aren't grateful he's trying to help, of course you're happy he cares so much. But a book isn't going to fix your problems, despite what he may think at times. And right now he doesn't feel like a friend, he feels like a doctor, and you feel like a patient laying on a lab table, vulnerable and stripped bare for the world to see.

For once, you just want to have a normal conversation without it turning into some kind of therapy session.

"Thank you, Spencer — um..." You voice shakes ever-so-slightly as you put the eyesore book in your bag. "I will be reading that tonight, that was very kind of you."

You know you'll probably put that book in a box and never look at it again. He doesn't seem to pick up on your unease, smile widening at your apparent acceptance of his gift.

"Actually," you continue softly, in a voice so quiet it's almost silent, head bowed forward, "I'm actually not feeling too well right now, think I might head home for the day."

The smile on his face falters slightly as you push away from your desk and stand up, packing your things away into your backpack. "Is everything — would you like me to drive you home?"

It's not unusual for your mind to trick you into thinking you actually are sick, but on the off chance that you really are feeling something, he doesn't think it's a good idea for you to drive yourself home.

"You know, about twenty-one percent of fatal car crashes involve tired or impaired drivers."

"I'll be fine," you reply blandly, though those statistics do alarm you mildly, stepping around him and walking in the direction of Hotch's office. "Thank you, though, Spencer."

As you disappear into the Unit Chief's office, Morgan give him this curious look from across the room, eyebrow cocked in question, but all Spencer can do is shrug, his own face twisted with confusion.

Usually when you get like this, there's some kind of trigger that sets you off, like a chain reaction of sorts, but right now, he can't for the life of him come up with something that might've set you off.

You're only in the office for thirty-seven seconds (Spencer was counting) before you reemerge, your head still bowed as you rush out of the bullpen, like there's something chasing you away.

"What'd you do to get Miss Sunshine all blue and teary-eyed?" Morgan asks mockingly when you're out of earshot. "She looks like you just kicked a fluffy little kitten in front of her!"

────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ──────

Spencer's never been to your apartment before — nobody on the team has, the only reason he's standing here now is because your address is on your information.

It feels a bit like an invasion of your privacy being here when he's not even supposed to know where you live, but Morgan was right. You did look like Spencer smushed a kitten under his shoe as you were leaving, and he couldn't in good conscience not check on you.

He reaches a tentative hand up, hesitating for a (very) brief moment before knocking thrice.

There's some muffled shuffling behind the door before it opens, revealing you, wearing a cream colored cardigan with delicately embroidered flowers on it. And while you're still neatly put together, there's a more casual air about you now, like you're more relaxed.

"Oh — Spencer, what're you doing here?"

Your voice rasps slightly, and when he takes a closer look at your face, Spencer finds that your eyes are a little red.

"I was just..." He pauses, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You seemed upset when you were leaving work."

You purse your lips and give him as once-over, then shift out of the doorway — inviting him inside? You close the door behind him once he's inside, guiding him towards the living room with a gentle hand on his back.

It's shocking, to say the least, that you're actually touching him right now, but he doesn't say a word.

"Would you — um — like some tea, or something?" you ask awkwardly, pushing him to sit on the sofa. "Or — or some water?"

"No, but thank you for offering."

You leave the room for a few minutes, presumably to make yourself something to drink, but come back with two steaming mugs, placing one in front of Spencer regardless of what he said.

Another couple of minutes pass where neither of you say anything, sipping on tea and glancing at each other every now and again. He's pleasantly surprised to find that you've used lavender tea.

Your apartment is very clean, looking more like a set you'd find at a department store than anything, but it's still so warm and inviting. You have a couple of candles lit around the place, and Spencer's fighting the urge to warn you about candle safety.

"I don't want you to try and fix me."

Spencer turns his head away from the tall bookshelf across the room to look at you, eyebrows furrowed. "What are you talking about?"

Fix you. What do you mean, he's trying to fix you?

"The book," you reply meekly, "I don't want you to try and fix me."

That catches his attention, the emphasis on that one little word — it's not that you don't want anyone to help, you just don't want him to help.

You must see the flash of hurt cross his expression, because you're rushing to elaborate, stumbling over your words.

"It's just that — um — I really like you, Spencer, and — uh — when you're giving me stuff like this..." You gesture to the coffee table, where the yellow book he'd given you is sitting. "I don't know, you kind of make me feel like I'm a patient in a lab. Something to be studied and prodded at and — and fixed."

"There's nothing about you that needs to be fixed," he murmurs, trying his best to ignore what you said — 'I really like you, Spencer.'

You place your half-empty mug of tea onto the coffee table and pull your feet up onto the couch, wrapping your arms around them.

"I wasn't trying to fix you — everything about you is perfect," he says, quiet and without thinking. "You just seemed so uncomfortable at work all the time, and I wanted to help you out."

"Why, though?" you ask sadly, a faint heat rising to your cheeks. "Why not just join in on all the teasing and mockery? It would be easier than dealing with me all the time."

"Because..." You raise an eyebrow at his entire face quite literally turns the same shade as a tomato. "Because I really like you, too. I didn't think about how it might come off, and I'm so, so sorry for—"

You hold up a hand to shut him up, leaning a little further towards him than he would have thought you'd like.

"Spencer, it's alright," you assure him, placing your hand on his knee, much to his surprise (and embarrassment). "You didn't need to worry, though — you're really the only person at work I spend much time around, and I'm not uncomfortable around you."

"You're... not?"

A soft smile graces your lips. "Not even a little bit. Not even at all."

Spencer deflates into himself, every inch of his his skin uncomfortably hot — this is news to him.

"That's a relief."

Your voice takes on a teasing lilt. "Why? Because you really like me?"

And just like that, his face gets infinitely hotter, but he gives you the tiniest nod, knowing that if he said anything, he would fumble.

"I don't understand why you're embarrassed," you whisper fondly, "I am the one who said it first, after all. You should be teasing me."

He might be the only one you'll accept it from, just like how he's the only person you'd ever accept physical contact with, the only person you'll ever trust enough to put your mouth near him, like right now."

Spencer has to restrain himself from physically recoiling in shock when you press the softest of kisses to his blazing cheek.

Your instincts are screaming on the inside, but if you're being honest, you couldn't care less.

This isn't a stranger, you assure yourself, this is Spencer, and he could never make you sick.

Spencer could never make you sick.

"Is this alright?" you ask as you press another slightly firmer kiss to the skin under his jaw, your voice dripping with something unfamiliar.

Unable to form a single word, Spencer nods, reaching to place a hand on the back of your neck, gasping when your teeth nipped at the sensitive skin.

It's a complete one-eighty from the shy, germ-conscious girl you usually are, but he can't find it in him to complain.

The girl of his dreams, the one who can't even bring herself to touch his hand at work, currently has her mouth on him, she's biting him, and his mind is in a frenzy.

"I'm not gonna freak out if you touch me, Spence," you tease lightly, lips fluttering over the space just beside his mouth. As if to prove your point, smirking against his skin, you take his hand in yours and settle it on the space just below your breasts — under your clothes.

Where you're not wearing a bra.

His mind reels and melts into goo at the feel of your bare skin against his hand, so soft and warm.

An embarrassingly loud whine escapes his mouth as you bite down on his neck again, sucking the skin into your mouth. His hand drifts slightly upwards, brushing against the supple skin of your breast and gently grabbing onto it.

Your breath hitches as he gropes at your chest, lips pulling off his neck with a little pop and head resting against his shoulder.

"Can I take your shirt off?"

Your question leaves him speechless, but he nods nonetheless, reluctantly letting go of you to help you get his shirt over his head.

The sigh of his bare chest has your mouth watering, and you want nothing more than to leave a trail of hickeys down his stomach, but first, you press your lips to his, hands threading through his hair.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs into your mouth, hands resting on your hips as you grind down onto him. "Absolutely breathtaking."

You tuck your head into the crook of his neck, whimpering as your hips wildly buck down on him. You've never been like this, desperate for the touch of another person, let alone a touch so intimate.

Spencer's grip on you tightens some, and he uses this new leverage to guide your hips, carefully pressing you clothed heat against the hardness straining against his pants.

"P-please," you choke out, arms wrapping around his shoulders, gripping him for dear life as he moves you.

"Hm?" he hums quietly, shifting the angle so he's rubbing right up against your covered clit.

"Please," you breathe out again, clenching around nothing. "Please, Spencer."

You're not even sure what you're begging for, only that you want — no, need more of this stimulation.

He seems to understand what you need better than you do, gathering your body to him and laying you on your back.

Your thighs automatically fall open for him, allowing his body to fit between them, one hand holding himself up. He presses himself against you again, drawing a desperate moan from the back of your throat as he works on undoing the buttons of your cardigan, letting the fabric slide off your body and pool at your sides.

The hand he's not using to support himself reaches for you, thumb brushing against your hardened nipple. The corner of Spencer's mouth twitches upward as you arch up against him, eyes screwed shut.

"You like that?" he asks genuinely, doing it again. You nod frantically, mouth dropping open, but no sound coming out of it.

"Yes," you pant, bottom lip catching between your teeth. "Yes, I like that — please."

"Please what?" His mouth descends upon your neck, fingers continuing their attack on your sensitive nipple, clothed cock still rubbing up against you oh-so wonderfully.

"Please... please touch me," you beg, unable to stop your hips from bucking up against him. "I need you to touch me, Spencer."

Such vulgar words coming out of your mouth. It shocks the man, but he complies, shifting his body backwards so he can pull your skirt and underwear down your legs.

The sight between them is magical — your folds glistening in the soft light of the room, you writhing in anticipation in front of him — and something he has, admittedly, thought about once or twice.

"Have you ever done this before?" he asks, running his middle finger through your slick and pressing down gently on your clit. You shake your head lazily, face screwed up in pleasure, a sight Spencer will cherish forever.

A strangled moan rips out of you as Spencer presses a finger against your hole, thumb rubbing soft circles on your sensitive bud, and enters you with little resistance.

"Neither have I," he admits sheepishly, pumping his finger in and out of you rhythmically, curling it until he finds that spongey spot within you that has you crying out his name and spilling over his hand.

"Two virgin germaphobes," you mumble jokingly, trying to wiggle closer to him again. You fumble with his belt, somehow managing to pull it through the loops, and toss it on the ground carelessly.

He helps you to push his pants down, just enough for his cock to slip out.

"Two virgin germaphobes," he agrees quietly, adjusting your bodies so you're both in a more comfortable position, sliding his heavy tip through your slick folds. "Are you sure—"

"I'm sure, Spence," you abruptly cut him off, running your fingers through his hair, subconsciously pulling him towards you. "Please just — just fuck me."

Spencer doesn't need to be told twice, slowly pushing into you, gasping as your warm walls suck him in, gripping his cock like a vice. He holds his breath, trying not to immediately blow his load.

You're writhing, gasping, clawing at his back, whispering his name out into the air, and it only works to make him more hungry for you. But he stills one he's fully sheathed inside you, giving you time to adjust.

"Does it — uh — does it hurt at all?" he asks in a whisper, directly into your ear.

"N-no," you gasp back, the small pain slowly morphing into one of pleasure. "It doesn't hurt, you can — fuck — you can move, when you're ready."

He doesn't think he'll ever be ready, with how tightly you're gripping him, but he still finds himself pulling out until only his tip is nestled in you, and slowly pushing back in all the way. You hum shakily, trying to press yourself closer to him as he repeats the action, then again.

Already so sensitive from your first orgasm, you know you're not going to last long with his slow movements, thighs clenching around his. Pressure grows in your abdomen as he thrusts back in, slightly harder this time, grunting into your neck.

"God, I'm already so close," you choke out, head thrown back, sounds you didn't even know you could make raking out of you. Spencer can't get enough of them, leaning down and catching one of your nipples in his mouth, gently sucking on the sensitive nub.

Without warning, you're spasming around him, drool dribbling out of your open mouth as you come, body going slack against the couch.

"W-where do you want me to—"

"Inside," you mumble incoherently, biting your lip hard enough to leave marks, tears building on your waterline. "Please, Spence, I want you to come inside me."

Your words alone are enough to have him spilling inside you, thrusts sloppy and unrhythmic. Your hum in content, clinging to him like a koala as he gently pulls his softened cock from inside you, rubbing soft circles onto the skin over your breastbone. It's comfortably quiet.

And then...

"Hey," you whisper in a tired voice, "you wanna go on a date with me?"

He smiles, pressing a soft kiss to your hip. "I would love to," he whispers back fondly before standing up from the couch, "but first, we need to get you cleaned up and rested.

[g0dlyunsub]

holding on.

the six times that spencer squeezed your hand, and the six times you fell for him even deeper.

pairing :: spencer x fem bau!reader

warnings :: mentions of bioweapons, undercover missions, injuries, blood, angst, fluff

word count :: 1.6k

author’s note :: my one brain cell has been occupied by protective!spencer as of late, so this is what we’re dealing with

accompanying song :: ugotme by omar apollo

the first time he squeezed your hand, it was during a handshake. 

you had just joined the bau, and as is customary in introductions, you held your hand out for a round of handshakes. with a tight-lipped smile, you looked into his face as you introduced yourself. 

“f/n l/n.”

his eyes — a charming shade of brown — stared right back at you. 

“i’m doctor spencer reid.”

he grasped your hand for only a fleeting second, but still gave it a gentle squeeze.

---

the second time he squeezed your hand, you were talking behind erin strauss’ back.

if it were hotch or any other member of the bau, spencer would’ve let everything play out and watched your panicked reaction with an amused smile. but it was erin strauss, and spencer could see that she was visibly agitated.

“a good section chief should have faith in the team’s decisions,” you pouted and looked up at spencer, who was chewing on a cookie and humming in agreement.

“she’s been telling me to call her every hour for an update on the case. last time, i was a minute late — a minute late, spence — and she just had to rub it in my face!”

you angrily rubbed the bridge of your nose, sighing as you vented to your colleague. his brows perked up, but you didn’t take note of it; in fact, you started to speak even louder as the rage continued to pile at the back of your throat.

spencer cleared his throat once, but you thought he was just trying to swallow his food. 

“honestly, spencer, do you think i should tell her?”

he blinked rapidly this time, hoping you would get the signal. but when you were still rambling by the time strauss was only a few feet away from your desk, spencer reached for your hand and squeezed it once.

you looked up in surprise, eyes widening as you waited for him to explain his gesture. 

but the voice that spoke up was strauss’.

“agent l/n, i would like to speak with you in private. now.”

you stood frozen for a few seconds, exchanging a panicked glance with spencer.

he gave you an apologetic grimace, but squeezed your hand once again, as if to wish you good luck.

---

the third time he squeezed your hand, it was during your first undercover mission. 

earlier that morning, swat had silently raided the home of two unsubs – a couple that went by the names of mr. and ms. stone – that were covertly collecting harmful biological agents.

after uncovering the news that they were planning to trade their bioweapons with a team of buyers, you and your team decided that the exchange would not fall through. the team revised the plan and decided that you and spencer would pose as the couple and intercept the trade.

so here you were, dressed in a dark green dress, the hem of the fabric flowing in the cool wind of the air-conditioned hotel lobby. spencer stood next to you in a black suit, hair falling in front of his eyes in the form of slick, wavy strands. 

time seemed to still when he reached behind you and squeezed your right hand four times – each to let you know how many possible targets were standing to your three o’clock.

that was all the signal you needed to get into character.

the two of you were a couple only for the night, but you put on a show that would’ve convinced any onlooker otherwise.

you snaked your hands around spencer’s neck before rising on your tiptoes and whispering, “are you ready, mister stone?”

he moved his hands to rest them around your hips, and ran his fingers through the smooth texture of your dress.

he dipped his lips near your ears, so close that his breath tickled your skin. 

“i am. are you, miss stone?” 

---

the fourth time he squeezed your hand, it was because you asked him to.

glass had struck your sides during the explosion, leaving a deep and dark gash in your flesh and surrounding it with a sticky stream of crimson red.

you tried to muster the strength to push yourself up, but it was too much. with a heavy sigh, you crashed back onto the ground.

thankfully, spencer was next to you in seconds.

he softly brushed over your cut skin, and when you flinched at the pain, he tried to console you by saying that the medics were almost here.

“almost?” you wheezed, struggling to keep your eyes open but still able to see that spencer had ripped a part of his dress shirt to wrap your split skin.

when he circled the fabric around your torso and started to apply pressure, you had to bite back a scream. you bit down on your bottom lip so hard that blood seeped through and filled your mouth with its metallic taste. 

“spencer- spence,” you gasped, and wrapped your hands around his.

“it’s okay, it’s okay,” he repeated, trying to reassure you as he continued to apply pressure to your sides.

“squeeze my hand.”

when he didn’t move his hand, you tried again. “please. i need a distraction.”

he furrowed his brows and gave you a hesitant look, but when he noticed the desperation flashing in your eyes, he complied. lifting his hands that were now stained with your blood, he gripped your hand and squeezed.

it felt like electricity coursing through your arm, but it didn’t hurt.

it felt oddly serene to have your blood sandwiched between your skin and his, to feel warmth amidst the draining cold.

---

the fifth time he squeezed your hand, you were on the verge of tears.

you and spencer were just about to regroup with the rest of the team to deliver the profile, but as the two of you were walking across the hallway, the victim’s mother leapt in front of you and yelled in a fit of rage.

“my daughter’s been gone for more than two days, and you haven’t done anything to find him!”

she pushed against your shoulders and you flailed your arms in an attempt to regain balance.

“you just sit around and pretend to work, but you don’t actually care. if anything happens to my monica, i’ll make sure you’ll never work this job ever again.”

that was the last strike that tipped spencer over the edge.

you didn’t even get an attempt to reason with her, because spencer grasped the fabric of her shirt around her shoulders and pushed her into the waiting room.

it wouldn’t be another five minutes before he stepped out, but you could see his face was flush with anger and disbelief.

yours was hot with shame.

approaching you with a concerned expression, spencer put his hand on top of your palm and squeezed. “that was completely inexcusable on her part-”

“it’s okay. i know.” you moved your hand away and forced a smile. 

you could see the words written all over his face — it’s not your fault, you did nothing wrong. yet you still couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt, of the terrible pain that comes with knowing that you’re doing everything you can but still failing miserably.

you walked as fast as you could to the nearest bathroom before spencer could stop you, tears already streaming down your face as you locked yourself up in the stall.

---

the sixth time he squeezed your hand, spencer showed a different side that you’d never seen before.

you and spencer were dating now, so showing affectionate gestures in public wasn’t a foreign concept to the two of you. however, the workplace was a different story. 

both of you did your best to adhere to professional conduct, as it was fundamental to being a federal agent. and although it took some willpower, you refrained from your usual hugs and playful nudges with spencer.

but the detective at the local p.d. was on your tail, unrelenting with his attempts to flirt with you.

“how does dinner at seven sound?”

he flashed his teeth at you and smiled, and it took everything you had within to not retch in front of him. 

“can we please focus on the case here?”

“can’t we talk about both at the same time?”

you sighed, your fingers itching to grab him by the collar and subdue him to a deathly hush.

“no, we cannot, and i’d appreciate it if you would stop-” you waved your hand in an annoyed gesture, “-stop whatever you’re trying to do.”

“you know you could’ve just said no.”

“i don’t think it would take any extra deductions to figure that she’s turning you down, detective.”

your shoulders lifted ever so slightly at the familiar voice, and you had to suppress a smile from surfacing on your lips when spencer took a seat beside you and squeezed your hand.

“it’s just friendly banter, agent. one that you’re not concerned with,” the detective spat back, his stare still fixed on you.

“doctor. it’s doctor,” spencer retaliated, “and i believe that i do have the right to be concerned when you’re making my team member uncomfortable.”

you were so fed up with listening to the detective ramble on and on, choosing to ignore your and spencer’s words. you stood up, braced spencer’s hand, and nodded your head towards a closed-off room.

“come on, babe, i’m tired of this. let’s talk about the case in private and grab dinner together later.”

spencer nodded, a proud gleam shining in his eyes as he stood and placed a hand behind your back. 

you felt your body warm up with fuzzy excitement when the detective tore his gaze away from you defeatedly and clamped his lips shut, and you smiled as spencer followed you out of the room with his grip lying on your hips.

---

every time spencer squeezes your hand, it’s a heartfelt reminder of how much he cares about you.

you don’t ever have to question it.

he knew he would care about you from the beginning, a fate decided by the stars when he locked hands with you for the very first time.

and he’ll prove it to you time and time again, all six reminders a testament to his dedication.

[sundrop-writes]

How would Spencer react to the f!reader eating a sucker in a very provocative way during a meeting?

I decided to change this up a bit. Rather than it being during a meeting, it's just randomly around the office because eating a sucker/lollipop during a meeting would be annoying af.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

How would Spencer Reid react to you teasing him with a lollipop?

Warnings: reader can definitely be interpreted as gender neutral because there isn't much description of them beyond their mouth (sorry if that isn't what you wanted lmao); this is very sensual/smutty toned (but there is no sex scenes); Spencer is thinking about sex acts/is having sexual fantasies about the reader; heavy sexual innuendo; definitely leans more toward Sub!Spencer; I was thinking of S4/S5 Spencer when I wrote this but you can imagine any Spencer; background Morcia; implications of Spencer masturbating in the bathroom at work. Reader loves teasing Spencer - idk what else. Not really proofread.

"Oooh, what's this?" You asked, walking up to see a large bowl of candy sitting in the middle of Morgan's desk.

"Leftovers from Halloween." Prentiss explained, not looking up from the file that she was reading. "Of course, Garcia put them on Morgan's desk. What was it that she said?"

"A little something sweet for my something sweet." JJ recited the words from her place at the coffee machine with a laugh.

"Oh, he is gonna love that when he comes in." You chuckled.

You knew that he wasn't going to eat all of it himself, and Garcia likely intended it as a pick-n-go for the office anyway - so you took a careful glance into the bowl and then picket an appealing round lollipop. A blow-pop, you quickly realized. Very nice. You knew the gum in the middle was crappy, but you would have fun seeing how long it would take to get to it, and it was cherry flavoured - one of your favourite candy flavours.

You grabbed it up and a few others to slip into your desk drawers, along with taking a few packets of M&Ms for your favourite desk neighbour. When you walked over to your desk that was in front of his, you tossed the candy so that it hit the front of his chest, and Spencer jumped violently, having been scared right out of his concentration from whatever he was reading. A thick academic paper, from the looks of it.

You heard Emily's nasel chuckle in from behind you at how hard he had jumped.

"Good morning." You greeted him with a wide smile as he glared at you, but took the candy and began opening it anyway.

"Yeah." He scoffed.

"You're welcome." You also said, nodding toward the candy in his hand.

"Did you know that M&Ms shortly after their creation, M&Ms were exclusively distributed to the US military during World War II as a part of soldier's rations?" Spencer stated, giving another one of his 'fun facts'.

"Due to the candy coating making them far less perishable, and far easier to transport due to the fact that they were less likely to melt. At the time, they were packaged in cardboard tubes and featured a violet colour among the candies. And that's how they became famously known as 'the candy that melts in your mouth, not in your hand'." Spencer explained, the last words becoming muffled as he stuffed some of the candy into his mouth.

"And now they have gone from feeding soldiers to being the breakfast of a skinny little genius like you." You joked, unwrapping your lollipop and raising it to your lips.

You were one of the people who joked about it, but you secretly loved the fact that he was skinny. You would never tell, but you imagined pinning him down and him not being able to get away because of his lack of muscle.

Spencer would have made some clever reply, but instead, his eyes became locked on your lips.

Watching your lips gently wrap around the roundness of the lollipop immediately sparked something in him. From that moment, his eyes focused on nothing but your mouth, and he absolutely lost all train of thought - including the fact that he had been reading something before you even sat down.

It wasn't even intentional at first. At first, you were just enjoying a random sweet treat at seven o'clock in the morning, going about small things like taking off your jacket and getting the files organized on your desk, and when you looked up to ask Reid if he had a spare red pen that you could use to mark off some things - that was when you noticed it.

That far off, glassy look in his eye that you had never seen before.

He was staring at your lips, hard, clearly not even realizing that he was doing it - at this point, the candy had just barely stained the inner part of your mouth red, and he was being driven insane, imagining himself running his thumb or even the head of his leaking cock along that spot, feeling the pure softness of your lips, having your sweet tongue reach out to meet the throbbing head of his-

"Reid?"

The sudden sound of your voice seemed to shake him from this daydream.

You pulled the lollipop from your mouth with a wet smack, and he swallowed a whimper - it was a sound so subtle that you wouldn't have been able to hear it if you hadn't been carefully listening. You clenched your jaw, suppressing a smirk. You didn't want him to know that he had been caught. Not yet.

"Um - ah - yeah?" He stuttered out, quickly looking back down at the papers in the middle of his desk, trying not to make it seem like he had been staring at you so blatantly.

"Can I borrow a red pen?" You asked, trying to give him your best look of feigned innocence as you placed the cherry red bulb back to your lips while waiting for his answer, gently tracing your tongue around it.

You loved the way his eyes clung to this action like a magnet, his own lips dropping open slightly as he let out a hot breath in awe, his pupils blown wide.

His pants were suddenly very tight.

Spencer had to purposefully tear his eyes away from your mouth when you began oh-so-slowly teasing the lollipop in and out of your lips, forcing him to perfectly picture the round head of his cock fucking between those perfect cherry lips.

He frantically looked around his desk, and grabbed the first pen with a red cap that he could find.

"Here you go." He mumbled, tossing it onto your desk, not even bothering to hand it to you.

He then grabbed his messenger bag from underneath his desk and so subtly placed it at his front while he scrambled off toward the bathroom. You simply let out a laugh and then shoved the candy into your mouth fully, looking back down at your files and getting to work.

Spencer could only pray that you would be done with the lollipop by the time he got back.

A/N: Okay this definitely turned more into the style of a blurb, but what I love about writing requests right in my inbox is that I don't need to do a super defined style, I can just write whatever comes off the top of my head and I don't have to worry about over-editing stuff. It's great for creativity and it's almost like a writing exercise? Anyway, I had a lot of fun with this.

Criminal Minds Masterlist

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

meet the in-laws | s.r. x liaison!fem reader

“would-would you like to meet my mom?” spencer stopped in the middle of your hotel room, he shoved his hands nervously into his khaki’s pockets.

you slowly set a pair of folded clothes into your duffle bag, a slightly surprised expression on your face. “i- i’d love to. would she be comfortable with an unfamiliar face?” your fingers twisted around each other, “i don’t want you to force this since we’re dating. only if you’re okay with this.”

spencer took four long strides closer, his fingers delicate near your wrist. “she already knows about you. i’ve- i’ve been mentioning you to her after our first encounter, she’s the one insisting to meet you on her good days.” he seemed embarrassed, shy at the slipped information.

you felt yourself brighten, “really? i’m already in her good graces!” joking just a bit, but relieved to know that spencer hasn’t kept you hidden from her.

spencer rolled his lips, “so would you like to join me for a visit?” perking up at the prospect. you nodded, “absolutely.”

luckily since your finished case was in las vegas and the team was given an extra layover day, it was the perfect opportunity to finally meet your boyfriend’s mom. you texted hotch that you and spencer were going out together in case he needed either of you to contact, everyone else seemed to head for the slot machines or tables.

the drive was about thirty minutes. it felt weird to see spencer behind the wheel, but it was a refreshing sight to behold. he kept his hands safely at ten and two, always used his blinkers, and he only went about five miles over the speed limit. but many cars sped past him, so he was still probably driving at the speed of an elder.

“she’ll probably be in the community room at this time. she enjoys doing sudoku and crosswords.” he linked a hand with yours and walked through the building with ease. many of the nurses and doctors waving, saying a quick hello as you both passed.

standing at the threshold you took notice of the scattered people filling the brightened space. “there she is,” spencer tugged you along as he walked more to the back were a couch sat. a women with short blonde hair had her head bent as her lips moved while looking at her book.

spencer pulled up a chair and let you sit first then dragged another beside you. “hey mom. it’s me, it’s spencer.” his mom looked up, “oh crash, hi honey.” then her eyes moved to you, “and who’s this lovely lady?”

“mom this is y/n. the girl i always mention, she’s my girlfriend.” you stretched a hand out, “it’s a pleasure to meet you, ms. reid.”

she took your hand gently, “call me diana, hon. is my boy treating you well?” raising a brow spencer’s way.

you couldn’t help the slight laugh, you looked over to him with a delicate smile, “raising the bar everyday. and i’m glad he chooses to put up with me.” giving his knee a loving squeeze.

diana hummed, “so when do i plan to hear about some grandbabies?” you heard spencer give a choking noise and your neck instantly warmed. “we’ve only been dating a month, mom.”

she shrugged, “oh, i can tell this will last. she’s all you can talk about in your letters.” and threw a wink at you. you had a feeling she’ll be right in the end.

[reidmania]

I umm I was wondering if I could make a request?

My idea was that the reader is like a female spencer and is Rossi or Hotch niece and the team teases them calling them Mr and Mrs Genius when she visits.

MR & MRS BOY WONDER | spencer reid

summary; the bau likes to tease you and spencer.

warnings; hotchner!niece, non bau reader, female reader, theres literally nothing this is so short and sweeet its not funny!! theres a miniature spencer ramble about the difference between mrs and ms

an ; IM TRYING TO GET THROUGH ALL THE REQUESTS GUYS i promise if you send or sent one i will get to it, it just might take time

The elevator of the bau opened to the sound of chaos, Emily was running around holding case files while laughing loudly at whatever JJ was saying from behind her as the blonde trailed along, Penelope was standing at Derek’s desk and it didn’t take much to notice the two were probably flirting like always — you adored that, their dynamic of purely platonic flirtation.

You scanned the building for two people specifically, your uncle, or your boyfriend. Neither of which you could see currently making a frown pull on your lips as you stepped out of the elevator.

“Look who it is!” You had gotten the attention of Derek, you smiled as your eyes settled on his, then on Penelope’s as the blonde turned to see what Derek was talking about, a wide smile adorning her features.

She cooed your name as she ran over to wrap you in a tight hug, making you giggle out softly as you hugged her back. “Hi.” You settled on as a reply.

“You just get prettier everytime I see you” She muttered out as she pulled away. The compliment caused your smile to widen and your cheeks to flush pink.

“Here for anyone specific mrs boy wonder?” Derek asked, leaning against his desk as he crossed his arms over his chest as he smiled at you, taunting you.

The nickname made the tint on your cheeks only deepen, the flutter in your chest caused a lingering sensation over your ribcage. You pushed out a soft chuckle — trying not to pay as much attention to his words as your mind begged you to.

“Shes here for me of course” Penelope said, holding her hand to her chest in faux offence, as she looked between you and Derek. Her teasing made your smile widen, as you nodded your head in agreement, playing along in her bit. “Yeah— Why would you assume otherwise?” You asked.

“Mrs boy wonder!!” Emily shouted from across the room as she noticed you, her and JJ instantly made their way over to you, this time casefile-less. Their hands empty from where they hand been full holding files only moments ago.

Your cheeks darkened. “Is this just a well known nickname for me that I don’t know about?” You ask, looking between the team of bau members, who were all smiling at you. It wasn’t unfamiliar with your uncle working in the fbi, you had known them all for years — except you and Spencer had only been dating a little over six months after years of mutual pinning for each other, both too scared to make the move until one day he just blabbed it out.

“Not on purpose” JJ mentioned, smiling as she tilted her head to the side softly, her blonde hair falling with her head, “We always call you that, have for years, makes Reid blush like a mad man” Emily poked into JJ’s side jokingly as she talked, the blondes body crunched at the feeling as she laughed.

The was the sound of the door opening causing Derek to look over towards Aaron hotchner’ office — your uncles office, where your uncle and your boyfriend were walking out of.

“Reid!!” Derek called out, “Mrs boy wonder is hereeee” He dragged out as he talked in a sing-song voice, laced with familiar teasing and playfulness. You watched as Spencer’s face lit up as he began walking towards you, your uncle trailing behind him.

“We talked about this— It would be miss, not mrs, we aren’t married yet therefore mrs is incorrect and in many cases people will find it disrespectful — I mean — I don’t, its just fundamentally incorrect and you are technically spreading misinformation” Spencer rambled out as he came closer, He paused in front of you blocking the others gaze as he leant down, tilting your chin upwards to place a gentle kiss on your lips. “Hi” He said softly.

You smiled “Hi” You replied.

“Miss boy wonder doesn’t have the same ring to it as mrs boy wonder does” Derek sighed out, shaking his head. “It suits her more as well, mrs boy wonder, miss boy wonder, mrs boy wonder” Derek muttered out.

You chuckled as Spencer moved to stand beside you — despite his want to wrap his arms around you, he was well away of his need for respect for the fact he was 1, in his work place and 2, your uncle was standing a mere few feet away.

“Don’t you agree hotch?” Derek asked, toothy grin on his face as he continued on with his teasing.

“Hi sweetheart” Your uncle ignored Derek’s question as he looked at you, your smiled at his slight softness despite the fact you knew that was the most you were going to get out of him in his work place. You were lucky enough to get fun uncle aaron before he joined the FBI — but he still treated you the same nontheless, just in more mature subtle ways.

“Hi” You grinned back widely.

“Hey Its mr and mrs boy wonder!!” You laughed and Spencer groaned at Rossi’s words

[anothermansjeans]

Heyy Idk if this is how you request but we'll see......

Could you maybe do like a singer!reader who writes like dirty af songs abt Spencer and then Penelope shows the song to the rest of the team and they all start low-key bullying him and continue making comments abt it while on a case or something like that??

<33

XOXO-

~W~

okay i don't know any DIRTY DIRTY songs so i apologize if this isn't that great 😭 let me know if you want another one that shows different songs! ALSO I IMAGINE THE READER SINGING A DIFFERENT OUTRO TO NONSENSE EVERY NIGHT JUST LIKE MS SABRINA CARPENTER

cw: implied sex, reader talks sings about getting head and being handcuffed

wc: 610

masterlist

++

“Oh, hey pretty boy.”

Spencer walked into the bullpen to see the majority of the team huddled around Derek’s desk with amused looks on their faces. He tentatively continued his walk, but immediately froze in place when he heard the video playing from the computer.

“This song’s catchier than chickenpox is.

I bet your house is where my other sock is.

Woke up this morning, thought I’d write a pop hit.

How quickly can you take your clothes off, pop quiz?

My man’s IQ is one-eighty-seven.

When he’s going down on me I’m in Heaven.

Handcuff me to the bed like I’m a felon.”

Her laughs could be heard from the video, and Spencer’s face immediately turned fifty shades of red.

“So, where were you last night, Reid? You know, when you said you couldn't join us for drinks.”

He rolled his lips into his mouth at Emily’s question. Everyone had an expecting look except for Penelope… She seemed guilty. “I uh, I was at a concert…”

“What concert?” JJ’s question was presented as innocent, but it was everything but that.

“My girlfriend’s,” he mumbled lowly, barely loud enough for them to hear.

“Could you repeat that?”

Spencer glared at Derek, he knew exactly what he was doing. “My girlfriend’s.”

“Well hot damn, you finally admitted it!”

“I wasn't keeping it a secret. I'm just not as open about my love life as the rest of you are.” He huffed and brought himself over to his desk.

“Well, Garcia was kind enough to show us a video she found online and we didn't know what to expect… who else has an IQ of one-eighty-seven?”

Spencer whipped his head over to Penelope with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry!” Her hands went up in her defense. “I just– I love her music and I couldn't make it to the concert in D.C last night so I was watching videos that people took and it doesn't take a genius to know who she's talking about when we know you so well.” Her words were quick, and she was huffing to breathe when she finished her sentence.

Spencer groaned and put his head in his hands.

“I think my favorite song of hers is Nasty.”

Spencer winced at Emily’s words as everyone else laughed. They definitely are going to have a field day with him.

“I love Espresso.” The humor in JJ’s voice was evident.

“So It Goes… and Guilty as Sin? might be the top contenders for me,” and Derek just has to add on. “Tell us, Reid, are scratches down your back?”

Spencer stood up and went towards the coffee machine, ignoring the laughs and references they were making. He was allowed about three minutes of solace before Penelope hesitantly tapped his shoulder with a shy look on her face. “We got a case. Everyone’s at the round table.” He gave a nod at her words and followed her, ears perking up when he heard her singing under her breath, “don't want to wait on it. Tonight, I wanna get nasty.”

He suppressed the groan waiting to come out, and sat down at the table when he felt a buzz in his pocket.

Y/N: made it to philly!! love you, be safe today. text me whenever you're free 🫶

He was about to message back before Hotch walked in, “We’re going to brief as quickly as possible. We're headed to Philadelphia.”

He knew Penelope knew the next stop on Y/N’s tour, and could feel her eyes boring into the side of his face. He was mentally preparing for the jokes as soon as they stepped out of the conference room.

++

songs that i imagined reader wrote about spencer:

nonsense by sabrina carpenter

nasty by ariana grande

espresso by sabrina carpenter

so it goes... by taylor swift

guilty as sin? by taylor swift

dress by taylor swift

[amorre1989]

new years day

pairing: Spencer Reid; reader

word count: 2,7k

story: cleaning up the mess with Spence after new years day party

Did we host the best New Year's Eve party of the year? yes. Do we have to clean up the mess in his apartment now? also yes.

As I was saying goodbye to all of my girl friends I saw a glimpse of glitter on the floor that was thrown to the air during the party, they were carrying their shoes from the pain of trying to keep them on their feet all night.

I turned around and saw my beautiful boyfriend, Spencer, dressed with a black blazer that was now off and he was wearing a plain black buttoned shirt. He was picking up everything he could find and throwing it inside a big garbage bag.

I walk towards him after I lock the door and hug him from behind. "you can leave it there, I'll clean it tomorrow" I say, a little aphonic from all the yelling and talking I did.

"it's gonna be tiring to do it tomorrow" he says, visibly exhausted, I think it wasn't a good idea to host at his place, but he insisted.

"I promise I'll clean up tomorrow" I say as I kiss his shoulder getting on my tip toes to accomplish that action.

He sighs and leaves the bag, he turns around and wraps his arms around my waist, sometimes in my mind I compare that feeling to wearing a corset, he's got such a strong grip he has left more than once a little reddish on my skin.

He holds both sides of my head and kisses me, so soft, so warm, so Spence.

"did you have fun?" I ask. He limits himself to smile and nod. I hug him and stroke his back.

"let's go to bed baby" he says aphonic as well, it was the first time I saw Spence having fun, really having fun. It was a weird combination of guests, his coworkers, my coworkers, my friends, their boyfriends, and some other plus one's. The entire building was having different parties at each apartment, so no one complained.

"do you think tomorrow Ms Johnson will gossip to you about how bad and little she slept?" he asks. I laugh "she definitely will, we have a bond, but I won't confess we were part of the problem...I'll say we went to my parents house, so...be my alibi"

"I'll always be your alibi baby" he says against my lips. "what the hell did you drink? you stink" he says smiling against my lips. I laugh, a bit offended.

"everything you drank!"

"oh no, you drank more than me, I only ate" he says

"no you did not, you liar" I accuse offended.

He laughs and says "yes I did! every time I turned around with chips on my hands you were drinking! once I saw you drink straight from a bottle!". You blush and smile "mh.. weird, I don't remember that" you say as you leave.

He laughs and kicks the garbage bag so you don't trip with it in the morning. He follows you to the bathroom where you're taking your makeup off.

"did you see there's people using beef to moisturize their faces?" you ask while creating bubbles in your face.

"we have some in the fridge if you wanna try" he says smiling, now aware of how you're not gonna do that.

"yuck". He smiles and strokes your lower back.

"this is a nice dress" he says while feeling the texture of the beads and little stones on your dress. He lowers his hand and strokes your butt. You smile. He pats your butt and leaves.

When you finish washing your face you go to his- your bedroom (he has corrected you many times) and try to take off the dress, mission you fail successfully. "help" you say still trying to reach the closing. He gets up from the bed and stands behind you, he holds the closing and starts to lower it, you can feel his breathing. Drunk and horny, that's a new one. He holds your waist and presses you closer to him, he kisses your now bare shoulder and pushes the straps down your arms, feeling your skin, you feeling his hands and his growing bulge, he bites your shoulder and you smile.

"it's a hot night, I think we should sleep naked" you hear he says, very blunt Mr Reid.

"is it? or is it just an excuse to be quicker in the morning" you ask, laughing.

"tomorrow we'll be so sore we won't even be able to pull our clothes off" he says. He turns you around so you're standing face to face and starts to take your dress off and your lingerie starts to be visible to his sight. He laughs "blue and pink?", you smile "what does it stand up for? barbie?" he says smiling.

"no, pink to attract sweetness and love, and blue for focusing on the new projects" you say, very serious.

"what do you need pink for? you have me." he says squinting his eyebrows.

"well for that, to keep that love"

He smiles and kisses you. His hand strokes your lower back. "let's go to bed" he whispers.

After you put on your designated shorts and shirt you get inside the bed, as soon as you cover yourself with the blankets he pulls you closer and rests his chin on your shoulder. Obviously you're the little spoon (which sometimes switches, cause he's a little baby).

"happy new year baby, I'm glad...I'm so happy that we're starting it like this" he says with his voice calm and low as he kisses your temple. You were about to reply when you felt his soft snoring hitting your ears, you laughed and rested your head on the pillow "I am too baby" you whispered and fell asleep.

honestly I imagined it more with Matthew in his new years day party outfit. Son of a bitch, he looked gorgeous, he has me dripping foam from my mouth.

[spencerreiddddd]

I live for you and only you.

Gist: The BAU team gets sent to a cult camp out to save hostages and when things turn for the worst he’s willing to take a bullet for you.

“We have seven hostages, five adults and two children the children are two boys one aged six and the other four.” Hotch said as he got off the phone with Garcia.

We had teams of SWAT and FBI surrounding the building built in the middle of a mountainous desert.

A few days ago we had gotten informed seven people were being held hostage by a religious cult who kidnapped people that fit their sacrificial agendas and were placed in charge of the case which landed us here under tents trying to communicate with the cult leader Horatio Caldos.

“Hotch we got something!” Morgan yelled out as I followed behind Hotch as we made our way to the radio phone placed on a white foldable table.

“Hello this is SSA Aaron Hotchner, am I speaking with Horatio Caldos?” Hotch said into the speaker his eyebrows knitting together and stress and concentration.

“Yes, I don’t know what you think you’ll accomplish by calling me. These people need to be sacrificed it is my duty and my people’s duty to give them to our lord and savior God.” He said delusional tone in his voice.

“Think very carefully Horatio do these people really have to be sacrificed?” Hotch responded testing the waters to see how we had to handle Horatio.

“You don’t understand Hotch…do you believe in God?” Horatio asked I looked at Hotch as he opened his mouth to respond with a no but I beat him to it responding quickly “Yes I do!” I said eagerly as Hotch and Morgan snapped up to look at me through confused eyes.

“Who was that?” Horatio said curiously

“Me, im SSA Y/N.” I said stepping closer to the speaker.

“So you understand this must be done God deserves the best he deserves a pure sacrifice!” Horatio practically yelled.

“No Horatio I don’t understand, God doesn’t need a sacrifice. I have a scripture in my Bible that I would like to share with you.” I said avoiding eye contact with Morgan and Hotch as they stared at me.

Horatio stayed quiet on the other line finally speaking up to say “Tell me.”

“No not over the phone, let me come in so I can show you. The people around me wouldn’t understand but you will.” I said praying that he would say yes.

“You are quite tempting Ms Y/N….” Horatio said silence filling up the rest of his sentence.

“Okay I’ll open the door for you and only you. Do not test me.” Horatio threatened as he hung up the call.

Relief washed over me as I closed my eyes and let out the breath I was holding. Turning around I was met with Morgan, Hotch, and Reid…. Reid had added himself around us in the process of the phone call and I hadn’t noticed.

“Y/N you cannot go in there.” Morgan began crossing his arms his eyebrows furrowing.

“Don’t underestimate me.” I shot back, Morgan huffed “it’s not that I’m underestimating you pretty but you going in alone with a man we haven’t finished profiling and is clearly going through a religious frenzy with other men who are his followers…it’s not safe.” Morgan said looking over at Hotch for support.

My eyes shot over to Hotch as his unreadable eyes stared back at me.

“Y/N you know this could end badly.” He asked “yes I know.” I respond keeping his gaze. Hotch nodded more to himself though as if he was convincing himself of the idea to let me go.

“Hotch those people aren’t going to make it the longer we stand here. If I could talk to him distract him buy us time as you guys make a plan to infiltrate we can save them.” I pleaded, Hotch closed his eyes letting out a sigh.

“I have my full trust in you Y/N, I know you are capable of doing this….just please be safe don’t do anything reckless.” He said opening his eyes again to look at me. I nodded as I brushed his arm now walking through the shoulder barrier Hotch and Reid had.

“Hotch you can’t let her go in.” Reid’s voice chimed in as I walked away towards one of the black cars we used to get here.

Opening the door to the car I felt someone’s hand wrap around my shoulder looking back it was Reid.

“Y/N no.” He said a desperate angry tone to his voice.

“Spencer I have to go.” I responded turning my attention back to the car seat where my bag was as I yanked it towards me and began rummaging through it.

“Are you crazy you’re going to get yourself killed!” He exclaimed his face full of emotions and expressions.

“I’m not I’ll be safe.” I responded annoyed at his lack of confidence in me.

I pulled out what I was looking for.

My Bible.

It’s front cover staring back at me.

“And what do you expect to do with that?” He scoffed staring at the Bible I held in my hand.

“Buy us time.” I responded slamming the car door shut.

“You’ll get yourself killed, what happens if you say something he doesn’t agree with and kills you for it.” Spencer says his voice high and his tone angry.

“I’ll die and be with my faith.” I responded beginning to walk away from him.

His hand gripped and yanked me back towards him.

“You really believe that?” He asked searching my eyes.

“I don’t doubt my faith.” I responded earning a scoff from him.

“Spencer those people have lives, they have family’s, children, dads, moms, people to go home to. People who love them and want them back, I will go in there if that means we can save them.” I responded raising my voice aswell.

“At what cost?” His voice softened as he stepped closer to me. “Spence-“ I began to say before being cut off. “Let me be selfish let me keep you here safe, I don’t- I can’t lose you.” He said staring at me with his big puppy dog eyes searching my eyes for any sign that he’s convinced me.

I ragged sigh escapes my lips as I lean up to kiss him. His lips soft and gentle as he reciprocated the kiss, we were always best friends. Never put a label on anything. The kiss was so soft it kind of hurt it hurt because maybe somewhere deep down I knew if anything were to go wrong it could be my first and last kiss with him.

Pulling away I sucked in a breath as I gazed up at him, his eyes even more pained and pleading than before.

“Now I really can’t let you go in there.” Spencer said putting his hand up to my cheek.

“Trust me.” I whispered reaching up to grab his hand on my face as I turned around beginning to walk away.

I heard his frustrated sigh as I walked back to the tents where Morgan and Hotch were standing waiting for me.

“Sir are we wiring her?” A detective walked over to ask Hotch.

“Yes.” He responded instantly his forehead filled with wrinkles his worry evident.

As the guy lifted my shirt from the back Morgan walked over and grabbed my hand. “You see I thought I did wreck less things but Y/N this is really crazy.” He said trying to smile but his worry evident in his voice.

“It’ll be fine.” I smile trying to convince him.

“Done.” The detective says putting my shirt down and walking away.

“Y/N…be safe.” Is all Hotch says as he puts a hand on my shoulder.

“Come here.” Morgan says hugging me.

“Geez I’m not going to die calm down.” I say almost laughing them acting like this was the last time they’ll see me is not helping.

Morgan scoffed a laugh.

“You bet that’s right I expect you to do this successfully and see you tomorrow at the office at 6am for paperwork.” He says nudging my shoulder.

I laugh and nod as I begin taking my gun off my holster and setting it down on the table.

“They’re waiting for me.” I say more to myself as I begin walking down the path towards the base.

Once I’m down the hill i feel nervousness begin to creep into me, i had people depending on me I couldn’t fail them. I reached the front two doors of the base and raised my fist to knock on the door.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

I held my breath as the door on the left slightly began to open with a creek of the rusted door screws.

“SSA Y/N took you long enough.” Horatio said looking at me as he used the door as his shield.

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting.” I said stepping closer to him to make my way inside.

Horatio grabbed my arm yanking me in as he slammed the door shut behind me causing me to yell at the sudden tug.

“Check her.” He motioned to one of the three men under his influence who stepped toward me and began patting down my hips legs and ankle before giving Horatio a nod of approval.

“Nothing personal.” Horatio said to me with a shrug as he grabbed my arm and began walking me deeper into the base.

I shuttered, reality set in I either get out of here or die trying.

Sooooooo this is going to have to do be a 2 part series, I got this idea randomly one night and had to write it as quickly as I could before I lost all the motivation or ideas i had so here it is. Sorry if it isn’t the best!

[a-simple-gaywitch]

Heart Full of You

Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: When Spencer goes to pick Henry up from school for JJ, he doesn't expect to fall head-over-heels for his teacher

Warnings: Mentions of guns, I think that's it?

Word Count: 4541

Author's Note: I don't really like the ending I have here, but I'd LOVE to continue writing this universe, I have so many ideas!

“Fate shuffles the cards and we play.” ~Arthur Schopenhauer

~

Spencer walked through the doors of Henry and Jack’s school and headed toward the theater. JJ and Hotch had signed the boys up for the school district’s musical and had asked Spencer to pick them up. JJ and Will had their Thursday date night, and Hotch was stuck in the office. Spencer was more than happy to agree. He slipped into the auditorium and took a seat at the back, since he was still pretty early. 

He saw a younger woman, probably in her early 20s, at the front of the auditorium with a clipboard and tape measure. She was presumably taking the students’ measurements for costumes while the instructor up on the stage led the children through the dance steps. The man he knew to be one of the high school teachers sat in the middle of the front row, making notes in a book. 

The dance instructor clapped as the song ended. “Okay, everyone, that’s the choreo for the day. I’ll turn you over to Mr. Meadows.” She nodded to the teacher in the front row. 

“Thank you Miss (Y/N). Take a water break, everyone, we’re back in five.”

A small chorus of “thank you five” was heard from the older students as the kids dispersed off the stage. The woman, Miss (Y/N) as Mr. Meadows had called her, hopped off the stage with ease and joined the younger woman who was taking a high schooler’s measurements. 

“Okay, folks, let’s bring it back!” Mr. Meadows called. “Take your seats, please. I won’t keep you too much longer, I just want to go over today’s notes.” Spencer noticed the monotonous tone of his voice and the elementary schoolers’ attentions already fading. “First, I need my principles, minus Jack and Red, right at 3 tomorrow. Do not be late. Evan, that means you. We have vocal work to do with Ms. (Y/N) and I do not want to waste her time. The rest of my high school cast, 3:30. Next, principles, do your linework. The sooner you start, the easier things will be later. Finally, my junior cast, don’t forget to see Ms. (Y/N) and Ms. Addi with your grown-up before you leave. And with that, I’ll see y’all tomorrow.”

Henry ran over to Spencer, his overly large backpack thumping against his back. Jack walked behind him, dragging his bag behind him. 

“Uncle Spencer!”

“Hey, kiddos!” Spencer said, kneeling down to catch the incoming Henry in a hug. Before he knew what was happening, Henry was dragging him towards the two women at the front of the auditorium. 

“Miss (Y/N)!”

“Hey, Henry! Hi, Jack! You boys find your grownups?” the dance instructor asked him. Her clothes reminded Spencer of the teacher on that Magic School Bus show Henry liked. Her pants were covered in music notes and she wore large, dangle feather earrings.

Henry nodded. “Uh-huh! This is my Uncle Spencer!”

You looked at Spencer and smiled. “Well, while I talk to your uncle, why don’t you go let Miss Addi take your measurements for your costume?”

Once Henry bounded over to the young woman with a clipboard, Jack following close behind, Spencer said, “Uh, my name’s Spencer Reid. I’m an authorized pick-up for both Henry Lamontagne and Jack Hotchner. I’ll be bringing him home today, too.”

“Uh, Hotchner, Hotchner,” you muttered under your breath, flipping through the clipboard in your hands. “Ah, here he is. I just need your signature next to both children’s names, Mr. Reid.”

“Oh, uh, of course.” He took the clipboard and pen from you. “So, are you new to the district? I don’t remember seeing you around before.”

“Oh, no,” you said with a laugh. “No, I’m here on a volunteer basis, technically. Been working with the theater department for six years, but I’m not on their payroll. I actually work-”

“Can we go get pizza now?” Henry asked Spencer, tugging on the sleeve of his jacket. 

“Ooh, a pizza party? You must be the fun uncle,” you said. 

Spencer’s face flushed and cleared his throat. “Uh, s-sure, Henry. We’ll get it on the way home.”

“Bye, Miss (Y/N)!” Henry said, wildly waving his arm. 

“Bye, Henry, bye Jack. I’ll see you boys on Monday.”

Spencer watched you for just a moment longer as another child and her guardian approached you. 

~

The team was reviewing a local case. 3 women were killed, all dressed in period clothing. 

“You think he’s making them look like Jack the Ripper’s victims? I mean, their throats are slashed and they’re dressed in Victorian clothing.” Morgan suggested. “And we know the victims are low-risk, victims of opportunity.”

“I don’t know,” Reid muttered, scrutinizing the crime scene photos. “Something about the clothes feels off.”

“The clothes are the key. Something about them will lead us to him,” Rossi said.

“Reid, you and Callahan look into the clothing more. Dave, you and Morgan go to the latest crime scene. JJ, you’re with me. We need to build a geological profile.” After Hotch gave the assignments, the team dispersed. Spencer and Kate Callahan stayed in the briefing room, looking over the photos. 

“What if we have an expert look at the clothes?” Kate suggested. “See if anything sticks out to them? There’s a professor at the university that’s known for her dissertation on historical clothing.”

~

“Now, if you look at contemporary theater, you’ll notice huge differences in how typical gender roles are portrayed. Unlike the standard Golden Age piece, women are given more agency and more purpose in the story besides furthering the objective of the man. For example, West Side Story versus Hairspray. Even though both shows center on a woman, it’s Tracy’s will that drives the plot of Hairspray whereas Maria’s will does not drive West Side Story. This goes back to our discussion earlier in the semester regarding protagonists. However, we do see a shift during the Golden Age, in that women are beginning to be fleshed out as characters. Compare the women in Allegro to the women in Gypsy. As we progress through to the contemporary age, we begin to see more female-led shows take stage.” You glanced at your watch and sighed. “And that is where we will pick up next class. Please remember to read chapters 13 and 14 in your text. If you have any questions, you know where to find me.”

Your class gathered their belongings and slowly made their way out of the room. You were tucking your own belongings into your bag when you felt someone approach the desk. 

“Office hours are at- Oh, hello.” When you looked up, a woman was standing in front of you, presenting an FBI badge. 

“Dr. (L/N), my name is SSA Kate Callahan, and this is my partner Dr. Spencer Reid.” Standing behind her was a man you recognized from the school. He was the uncle Henry Lamontagne talked about all the time. “We were hoping you’d be willing to give us your professional opinion on some clothing pieces.”

“Oh, well, uh, sure. Let me just email my next class and let them know it’s canceled.” 

As you pulled your laptop out from your bag, Agent Callahan asked, “Don’t you have a TA that could take over?”

You huffed a laugh. “I’m a professor in the theatre department. I’m lucky I have my own workshop and somewhat of a budget during show season.” You typed up a quick email to your next class and sent it. “I usually work in my shop instead of my office, but-”

“Wherever is most comfortable for you,” Agent Callahan said. “We have some pictures that are… well, gruesome.”

You nodded. “Well, then, to the dungeons it is.” At the concerned look the agents gave each other, you said, “My workshop is in the basement. My students affectionately christened it the dungeons a few years ago. I hope you don’t mind a few sets of stairs.”

“Lead the way,” Dr. Reid said. 

Getting down to the costume shop was like a quest on its own. Not only did you have to trudge down several staircases from the classroom floors, but then you had to use your ID to take the elevator the rest of the way down. When you finally reached the basement, you dug your key hoop out of your bag and flicked through it. The key to the main portion of your shop was attached to a Phantom of the Opera keychain. 

You unlocked the door and pushed it open. “Welcome to my shop. Feel free to sit wherever you can. If there’s stuff on a chair, just set it on a workbench.” As you set your bag down at the desk in the corner, Spencer looked around the room. It could be accurately described as organized chaos. While the work benches were covered in fabrics, thread, and many other things Spencer didn’t know the names of, everywhere else was meticulously organized. Bins and drawers were labeled, and not a thing seemed out of place. Spencer looked at the dress hanging on a mannequin and couldn't think of it as anything other than a work of art. There was elaborate beading on the bodice and embroidery on the skirt.

“So, what can I help you with?” you asked as Kate and Spencer got settled. 

“We were hoping you could tell us about the outfits in these pictures,” Spencer said, pulling a file out from his satchel. “Fair warning, it’s not pleasant.”

You shrugged. “I grew up with a mom obsessed with crime shows and police procedurals. Pictures won’t bother me.” 

Spencer handed you the file folder. “We think he’s dressing them up like Jack the Ripper’s victims.”

You hummed as you looked through the pictures. “Any idea what kind of fabric was used?”

“Why does that matter?” Kate asked.

“Well, cotton was a luxury in Victorian London,” you explained. “Most common folk wore linen or wool, because it was what they could afford. It was also common to patch up clothing with fabric found around the house rather than replace a shirt or a pair of trousers.” You grabbed a magnifier from your desk and looked closer at one of the photos. 

“Do you see something?” Spencer asked as you moved to another picture. 

“I’m not sure,” you said. 

“Well, what is your gut telling you?” Callahan asked. 

You pointed toward a small section of embroidery through the magnifier. “This stitching along the underside of the skirt. It’s on all of them.”

Kate’s eyebrows scrunched up. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s a signature. Us designers like to add some sort of signature or tell into all our pieces. A secret way of letting the world know the piece is ours.” You reached across the desk and grabbed a piece of fabric. When you unfolded it, they saw it was a shirt. You held the edge of the sleeve out for the agents to see. “For example, I use a treble clef as mine. My mentor would include Mickey Mouse heads because she was a huge Disney fan. Other people just find creative ways to embroider their initials onto it in a way that just looks like an artistic choice.” 

“So, if we can find out whose signature it is, it can lead us to the origin of the outfits,” Spencer said. 

“I’ll call Garcia, see what she can find.” Callahan said.

“Oh, we don’t get cell service down here, you might need to go back upstairs,” you told her. She nodded and stepped out of the workshop. You cleared your throat. “It’s, uh, it’s nice to see you again, Dr. Reid.”

“You, too,” Spencer said with a small smile. “So, this is where you actually work, huh?”

You gave a small laugh. “Yep. Start of this semester was 7 years.”

“Congrats.”

“Thanks. So-”

“Reid. Hotch wants us back. Rossi and Morgan might have something. Thank you for your help, Dr. (L/N).”

“Of course. Happy to help.”

After Callahan and Reid left the costume shop, Kate said, “Okay, spill. The energy in there was really weird. Why didn’t you tell me you knew her?”

Spencer rubbed the back of his neck. “I, uh, I didn’t know I knew her.” At Kate's questioning look, he explained, “I met her through my godson. She volunteers at his school and goes by her first name there.”

“Uh-huh. And the awkwardness?”

“When have you known me to not be awkward, Callahan?”

Kate hummed, but dropped it.

~

You were humming along to the soundtrack you had playing, measuring a drape of fabric on your dress form, pins sticking out from your mouth. You glanced from your notebook with your measurements and pattern sketch to the fabric. You pinned a piece of the cloth up when you heard a knock at the door to your shop. 

“Come in,” you said, your voice muffled from the pins. You stuck them back in the pin cushion on your wrist before standing up and dusting off your pants. “Oh, Dr. Reid! How can I help you?”

“You, um, you can call me Spencer,” he said. “I uh, I wanted to stop by and tell you we caught the guy,” Spencer said, standing awkwardly in the doorway. “We-we couldn’t have done it without your help.”

“Oh! Well, I’m sure you would have figured it out anyway. The BAU seems to be good at that kind of thing.”

Spencer gave a small laugh. “Yes, but your help enabled us to track him down without any more lives lost.” So, what are you working on?”

“Oh, I’m making one of Eponine’s dresses. We’re doing Les Mis this semester. I have Cosette’s dress on Cordelia over there.”

“Who?”

“Oh, sorry. The dress form. We named them after Shakespearian women. It’s just a fun little thing we do here. That’s Cordelia, this one by me is Rosalind.”

Spencer smiled. You know, maybe you could tell me more about what exactly your job is at dinner?” Before you could answer, Spencer said, “Obviously, you don’t have to, I’m not trying to force you into anything, I-”

“Spencer,” you said, holding your hand up to calm him. “I’d love to go out with you. Here-” You walked over to your desk and shuffled papers around. “Aha!” You grabbed a pen and scribbled something down. “My personal number. That way we can, you know, figure out something that works with both our schedules. I’m sure yours is even crazier and more unpredictable than mine.”

The smile you gave Spencer lit a warmth in his chest that he didn’t think he would ever get tired of. 

~

“Pretty Boy! Tonight, drinks on me.”

“Oh, uh, no thanks, Morgan.”

“No, no, no, you can’t just stay in when we finally have a Friday night off. You’re coming.”

“Look, it’s not that I don’t want to- I mean, I don’t, but it’s not just that. I, um, I already have plans.” He glanced at his watch. “I’ll see you all on Monday.” He grabbed his satchel and rushed out of the BAU office. 

Morgan’s brow furrowed as he watched Spencer’s retreating form. 

“What’s wrong?” JJ asked. 

“Remember the last time Reid was this jittery and secretive?”

She sighed. “You know I do.”

“What happened last time?” Kate asked. 

“Maeve,” Garcia answered, her voice just above a whisper. 

“We have to find out what’s going on with him,” Derek decided.

“I really don’t think that’s necessary-”

“Let’s follow him,” Garcia cut Kate off. “See where he’s going, what he’s up to.”

~

“That can’t be true!” Spencer laughed. “There’s no way!”

You were laughing too. “I’m serious! I stapled the sleeve of my sweater to the set piece we were building and I didn’t notice until we were ready to lift it into place! They wouldn’t let me in the wood shop after that.”

Spencer couldn’t stop smiling the whole night. You were funny, smart, and everything he could hope for. 

“So, how did you end up working with the school district?”

“My niece,” you explained. “Her senior year, their regular choreographer went on maternity leave. The district said if they couldn’t find someone to fill the role, they would cut the play. Julia called me melting down over it, begging me to volunteer. And, you know, I’ve never been able to say no to my nieces and nephews. After that production, we found out that the choreographer was quitting to be a stay-at-home mom, so I agreed to be the regular choreographer on a volunteer basis. Then the next year, their costume connections fell through. I worked through the university to provide costumes, which is how the internship program started. This year, I’m just filling in on vocal directing while the choir director is out on medical leave. And Into the Woods is one of my favorites to sing anyway. So, what about you? How’d you end up working for the FBI?”

While Spencer told you about going to college at 12 and meeting Gideon, Morgan, Garcia, and JJ were sitting at a nearby table, hiding behind menus. 

“Who is she?” Garcia asked, trying to get a better look at you. Your back was to their table.

“I don’t know. Never seen her before.”

JJ squinted. “Something about her seems familiar.”

Before they could do more digging, a waiter came over to take their orders. When the waiter left, Spencer’s table was empty. 

“Where did they-”

Spencer walked up to their table, arms crossed against his chest. “Really, guys? Did you think you were being discreet?”

“Kid, look-”

“You were being all secretive, we were worried about you!” Garcia cut in.

Spencer sighed and dropped his arms. “I didn’t mean to worry you guys. I just- We’re all so in each other’s business, and this is so new I-”

“You wanted to keep it to yourself,” JJ said. “We get it. Looks like she’s coming back from the bathroom. We’ll get out of your hair.”

“But-”

“Come on, Pen. I’m sure he’ll tell us all about it on Monday. Right, Spence?”

Spencer smiled. “Sure, Jayje.”

~

Phone calls with your family always stressed you out. It wasn’t that you had issues with your family, it was just that they always seemed to be up in your business. And that held true for your monthly family dinner.

“(Y/N/N), I’m telling you, you’d get along great with this guy,” your older sister, Maria, said. You were over at her house for dinner, your parents and other two siblings video-calling from their respective locations. “I know you feel like ‘the universe and fate will align’ and introduce you to your soulmate or some shit, but that’s not really how the world works.”

You sighed. “Maria-”

“Come on, you haven’t dated anyone since college!”

“Because I haven’t had any interest. Liz, back me up here,” you said to your younger sister, who was feeding her twin toddlers. 

“What?”

You shook your head. “Never mind. Can we just change the subject, please? Tommy, how’s school going?” you asked your younger brother, the youngest in the family. You could tell he was only half paying attention from his dorm room. “What classes are you taking this semester?”

“Maria’s right, sweetheart,” your mother said. “How will you ever meet someone without putting yourself out there?”

“Ma-”

“I mean, you’re not getting any younger-”

“I have a boyfriend, okay, Ma? I don’t need your help!”

Your family fell silent. 

“You have a boyfriend?” Liz was the first to speak. “What’s his name? Where did you meet? How long have you been together? How-”

“Elizabeth, let her breathe!” your father said with a laugh. “We’re happy for you, pumpkin. Tell us about him. At your pace, of course.”

You smiled and told them about Spencer. Only after promising to bring him to the next real family dinner did they relent and change the subject, pestering your little brother about his college classes.

~

You and Spencer were a damn near perfect match. After that first date, the two of you barely went a day without calling or texting each other. When he was in town and not across the country on a case, he would bring you lunch. You’d frequently stay over at each others’ apartments. Months into your relationship, you knew each other better than yourselves.

Which is why, when you didn’t answer your phone on a Saturday afternoon when the team got back from a case, Spencer was concerned. He made his way to your apartment and fished the spare key you’d given him out of his pocket. He pushed your door open.

“(Y/N)? Love?” He walked into your apartment, which was unusually messy. Scraps of fabric were littered around the room, and music was blasting from your home office. “(Y/N)?”

You came rushing out of your kitchen, your hair a wild mess and your oversized pajama top drooping from your shoulder. You skidded to a halt. 

“Spencer! What are you doing here?”

“We just got in from the case. I tried calling-”

“You did?”

“-to see if you wanted to grab dinner.” You pulled your phone from your sweatpants pocket and saw the 3 missed calls from Spencer. “Are you okay? What’s going on? You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

You sighed. “I haven’t. I’ve been working nonstop. I need to make the mask for the Wolf, the Witch's coat, and Enjolras and the other revolutionary’s waistcoats, and my sister asked me to make a dress for her coworker’s daughter’s quinceanera and-”

“Whoa, whoa, hey. Breathe.” He cupped your face in his hands. “You need to stop working yourself so hard,” he said, rubbing your cheekbone with his thumb. 

“Says the man who overworked himself so much he developed chronic migraines.” At his raised eyebrow, you said, “Sorry.”

He smiled softly and kissed your forehead. “Why don’t you let me help you out a bit? Give me instructions, I’m a quick learner.”

You reached up and pulled his hands from your face. “Spencer. As much as I absolutely treasure and adore you, the thought of you seeing the absolute disaster that is my home workshop right now is literally the most terrifying thing I can imagine. More terrifying than you meeting my family. Which, by the way, my mom is insistent that you come to Thanksgiving this year.” You yawned and leaned your head against his chest. 

“We can talk about that later.” He kissed the top of your head. “How about now, into bed? You’re dead on your feet, love.” When you only nodded, Spencer led you to your bedroom. 

After getting you settled in your bed, Spencer went to stand up. You reached out and grabbed his hand. “Stay,” you mumbled, tugging him towards your bed.

The next morning, Spencer walked into the round-table room late. 

“Well, look who’s wearing the same clothes,” Derek said. “Fun night?”

“Shut up, Morgan,” Spencer said, taking a sip of his coffee. 

Hotch looked over Reid before saying, “As I was saying, Indianapolis needs us to write up a consult. Garcia is passing around the case file.”

~

Spencer was filling out paperwork at his desk when his phone started ringing. “Dr. Spencer Reid.” He froze as he heard the person on the other end of the line. “Oh- oh my god. Yeah, yeah, no, I’ll be right there. Uh, thank you.” He slammed the phone down and started gathering his belongings. 

“What’s wrong, Reid?” JJ asked, watching Spencer cram a folder into his satchel.

“(Y/N)’s at the police station.”

You were walking home from the fabric supply store when a young man stopped you. He couldn’t have been older than 20. He pulled a gun and pointed it at you. 

“Give me your purse,” he said. You saw the way his hand was wavering.

You straightened up. “No.”

“You-you can’t say no! I-I have a gun!”

You just blinked at the man- practically a boy. Then you kicked him in the groin, causing him to drop the gun as his hands flew to cup his injury. You pressed your foot on top of the gun, preventing him from picking it back up, then you dialed the police. 

They brought you to the station to give a statement. You were sitting next to one of the detective’s desks when Spencer ran in. 

“(Y/N)! Are you okay? What happened?��

The detective nodded at you and gestured toward where Reid had come from, indicating you were free to go. 

You shrugged at Spencer. “Some punk-ass kid tried to mug me. Had a gun and everything.”

“What?”

“It’s fine, I knew he wasn’t gonna go through with it.”

“How could you possibly have known that?”

“Spence, I’m from Philly. It’s not the first time someone’s tried to mug me at gunpoint.”

His eyes went wide as saucers. “That doesn’t make it better!”

You smiled and kissed Spencer’s cheek before taking his hand. “I’m fine. Thank you for coming to get me.”

“Of course, (Y/N). I love you.” Your smile widened as Spencer’s face started to pale. “I mean, uh-”

“I love you too, Spence. Come on, let’s get out of here.”

~

“Okay, closing night,” Mr. Meadows said, addressing the students, all in their brightly colored costumes. “I’m incredibly proud of all of you for making it this far. This is our last show, you’ve all done great so far. Go out there and give them one last show to remember. Now, before we get in places, Ms. (Y/N) is going to lead you through a vocal warm-up.”

“Thanks, Mr. Meadows,” you said, taking your spot in front of the group. “Okay, guys, you know the drill. Repeat after me, then all together.” You took a deep breath before leading, “To sit in solemn silence on a dull dark dock, in a pestilential prison with a lifelong lock, awaiting the sensation of a short sharp shock from a cheap and chippy chopper on a big black block.”

After the cast ran through their warm-up, you said, “I’m so proud of all of you. Go out there and break legs. I’ll see you all after at intermission.” You waved before slipping from backstage, making your way to the lobby. 

It wasn’t often that you got to just sit and enjoy the hard work your students put in, but one of your interns was staying backstage in case of any costume emergencies. You spotted Spencer in the crowd and wove through everyone to get to him. With him were Henry’s parents, Jack’s father and aunt, as well as the rest of the BAU team. 

“Hey,” Spencer said, grabbing your hand and giving you a quick kiss. “Glad you could join us.”

“Me, too,” you said as you slowly made your way into the auditorium to find your seats. “It’s gonna be nice to just enjoy the show for once.”

As the show began, you felt Spencer looking at you.

"What?" you whispered.

"Nothing. The costumes are beautiful. You're an artist."

Your cheeks flushed at his words. You took his hand in yours and rested your head on his shoulder.

Like Cinderella and her prince, Spencer was your happily ever after.

[incognit0slut]

Right Kind of Wrong (4)

She never thought she would be involved in a murder investigation and encounter her one-night-stand again, the awkward guy who isn’t exactly that good in bed—Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong… But as he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye.

Part summary: Y/n and Spencer's unexpected reunion ends in a quarrel. wc: 4k

Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, blood, graphic details of murder

Other parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14

SPENCER CONSIDERED HIMSELF AS A GOOD PROFILER. His background in psychology was a strong contribution to becoming the expert that he was now. He also believed he had a very strong sense of detail in his work, especially when it came to assessing body language. It took a lot of careful observation and attention to interpret it correctly, and with all the experiences he went through this past decade, it came to him naturally.

But to observe meant to be focused and right now he was anything but that.

"Ms. L/n, this is Dr. Spencer Reid."

How could he focus when he couldn’t believe what he was seeing? Spencer had always been fascinated by the concept of the afterlife, the mystery and unknown of what went beyond death. Granted, he had never encountered anything superstitious, but maybe this was as close as he could get to ever experiencing that because right now it felt as if he was seeing a ghost.

The idea of meeting the stranger he tried to forget never crossed his mind, especially in a situation he least expected. While he wouldn't completely deny the possibility of coincidence, he tended to be more skeptical and cautious about things that push the bounds of rationality and reason. But now that she was right here in the flesh, he couldn't keep his eyes off of her.

She had the kind of face that made you stop to look, the sudden pause in a person's natural mind when they glanced her way. Delicate face, high cheekbones, full luscious lips. But beyond the appeal of her beauty, there was deep exhaustion in her eyes. Her shoulders were tense. Her cheeks were flushed. Her chest rose in rapid movements as the pace of her breathing increased.

There was a sense of agitation in her posture, a clear sign of anxiousness. He could decipher that all too well because it was exactly what he was experiencing now. A storm of panic suddenly rose inside him, a sense of overwhelming dread and anxiety taking over his body and mind, leaving him feeling as if he was trapped in a fight-or-flight mode.

Y/n opened her mouth, closed it again, then tilted her head. His eyes scanned the crease on her forehead as if she was deep in thought before she threw Morgan a hesitant look.

His panic intensified.

"Well, actually—"

"Nice to meet you!"

Both of their heads snapped at him. He couldn't blame the way they were gawking, because between the panic and the shock still lingering in his system, his vocal cords managed to change his voice into a higher pitch. He cleared his throat and smoothed down the suit he was wearing, calmed his breathing, and carefully lifted his other hand.

He gave her a wave.

"It's nice to meet you."

He saw her looking at him warily before she calmed herself, crossing her arms against her chest in an act of defense. She eyed his hand as it settled back to his side.

"Let me guess," she started, quirking an eyebrow. "The number of pathogens shared during a handshake is staggering?"

There was a heavy pause as they both held their gaze. Morgan glanced between the two. "Do you know each other?"

The air suddenly charged with tension, a thick weight that settled in her chest before she looked away. "I suppose not." She walked towards the door, pushing it ajar. "After you, boys."

Morgan threw her a skeptical look before stepping into the room. The moment Spencer stepped forward, her eyes narrowed at him suspiciously. An overwhelming sense of anxiety, coupled with a feeling of wanting to hide took over him as he shuffled past her, looking straight ahead.

The two agents sat by the table. She watched as Morgan observed her with an immense amount of curiosity while the man sitting beside him finally had the courage to look at her. The moment he lifted his eyes and settled them on her own, she couldn't help but notice a slight shift in his demeanor. It was as if in the midst of trying to calm his nerves, a switch suddenly clicked inside him, showcasing a very focused and intent look that commanded attention and respect.

She took the seat right in front of him.

Morgan's eyes swept over to her. "Ms. L/n—"

"Y/n is fine."

"Y/n," Morgan started again. "Can you tell us what happened?"

She gave Spencer one last look before focusing her attention on the other man. "I don't understand why I have to repeat this process again."

"People's recollections and perceptions of things can often change over time. It also helps us better to understand the situation," he explained. "What happened before you found Mr. Lynch?"

"Technically, Eric was the one who found him." She placed her hands on the table, intertwining them as she recalled what had happened a few hours ago for the second time. "Jamison called me before everything happened. It was a short, desperate call and it ended too quickly after he asked for help. I ran back to his office after that."

"What exactly did you hear on that call?"

"Heavy breathing. He sounded..." She trailed off, a look of forlorn set in her eyes. "He sounded as if he was in pain. There was also a loud crash in the back."

"Was there any other voice besides him?"

"I didn't hear anyone else."

"And you're the only one he called?"

"I'm not sure," she answered truthfully, shrugging her shoulders. "He might've called Eric as well."

The two men shared a look. She waited for either of them to respond and was taken aback when Spencer regarded her the next question. "What were you doing prior to the call?"

She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms.

Something about the way he was watching her vexed her. One moment he was scurrying off trying to diminish any relation he had with her, the next thing she knew he was addressing her with a keen interest, and not in the way he had on that eventful night. There was wonder and excitement on their first encounter, but all she could notice now was the intensity of him assessing her as if he was trying to analyze her.

She wondered whether he had two different personalities.

"Ms. L/n?"

She steadied her gaze before correcting him, "Y/n."

Then she tried to think back on what happened before the rush of panic took over her body. She remembered recalling her conversation with Oliver and how declining his obvious interest was the right thing to do. And then somehow her mind manage to reminisce about the last man she was involved with, who ironically, was sitting right in front of her.

So basically, I was thinking of you.

"I was walking to my car in the parking lot," she finally said.

"Did you see anything suspicious before you got the call? Or when you ran back to his office?"

"Not that I was aware of—" There was a moment of sudden clarity. It was like a rush of insight and understanding, and everything clicked into focus like a puzzle or a riddle. The sudden realization made her heart race with disbelief and fear at the same time, and her mind started to race with all the possibilities and connections it had discovered. "Someone did push me in the parking lot."

Morgan frowned at her. "Push you?"

"Somebody accidentally brushed me and I lost my balance," she explained, her brows knitting in concentration as she tried to recall that exact memory. "He was tall and... fit? He wore everything black and when I called out on his lack of manner, he ran away."

"Did you see his face?"

She shook her head. "It was pretty much covered with his clothes. He was wearing a hoodie, I think."

"Was there any other thing that stood out from him?"

"No, I don't remember anything significant. After that Jamison called, then everything happened so fast." She gave them a resigned look. "I'm not even sure if it has anything to do with what happened."

Morgan gave her a reassuring smile. "It's fine. Any information might help us with this investigation."

She nodded, and before they could ask further questions, she inquired about a curiosity of her own. "May I ask why the FBI is investigating this case?"

There was a feeling of great importance and a weight of significance as Spencer clarified, "We suspect Mr. Lynch's murder is linked to another case that happened not long ago."

She blinked her eyes in bewilderment. "You're telling me there's a possible serial killer behind these two murders?"

"Yes," he confirmed, his words seeming very heavy. "The nature of these deaths are very similar, we think that the Unsub has a motive behind all the killings."

"Unsub?"

"It's an abbreviation for Unknown Subject, and it's mainly just a code word that represents the suspect."

She nodded once again, then eyed both of the agents sitting across from her.

"Is the death of my boss linked to Kevin Marshall?" When the two men narrowed their eyes suspiciously, she stopped herself from rolling her eyes. "I'm a journalist, I was working on that case—well, before it got assigned to someone else."

"What do you know of Mr. Marshall's case?" Morgan asked cautiously.

"Nothing much, really. I simply knew he was found dead with some kind of writing on his body." She looked away. "I saw a glimpse of something written on Jamison's arm, it's not that hard to put two and two together."

Morgan regarded her with a nod. "We do suspect these deaths are done by the same Unsub."

Spencer then gave her a look, one that clearly indicated his opinion of her. "And we highly appreciate it if you could keep this information confidential," he requested. "We don't want the media to compromise our investigation until we have further information."

She frowned at the charge behind his words. "You think I'm going to write a story about what happened?"

"Isn’t that what you do for a living?"

It took a lot of self-control for her not to throw the pen sitting in front of her across the room.

"With all due respect, Dr. Reid, I find it offending that you think I would write a story on the murder of someone I personally know."

"I—Ms. L/n, I wasn't trying to accuse you of being inconsiderate."

"Well it seemed exactly like that to me."

The silence after that was deafening. It was a sort of heavy, oppressive stillness that hung in the air that it was so brittle it could practically snap, and if it didn't, one of them might. It was terribly uncomfortable that Morgan could feel the tension building as the seconds dragged by without a sound. "Are you sure you don't know each other?"

"Yes."

"Yes."

Doubt was written across his face. There was a sense of discomfort that came along with the uneasiness from the escalating tension as he glanced between the other two people in the room. He gladly let out a sigh when his discomfort was saved by the sudden call coming from his phone.

"Saved by the bell," he muttered under his breath, which didn't go unnoticed by the two people who were now glaring at him. He simply stood up from his chair and moved toward the door, pulling it open before answering his call with a firm yet flirtatious voice. "Talk to me, baby girl."

She wrinkled her nose at the pet name as the door closed behind him. "Was that his girlfriend?"

"No," Spencer responded. "That's the technical analyst in our team. They have a unique way of addressing each other."

The sound of his gruff voice suddenly pierced her, and it was then that she realized she was left alone with the man she never thought of ever seeing again. Her attention went back to him as her eyes slowly wandered across his face, noticing the way he was observing her.

One of the things that had always caught her interest was his disheveled hair. It was untamed, the mass of wild, chocolate-colored curls brushing against the collar of his shirt was something that often caught her attention. Then there was his attire, wearing a nice fitting dark suit over an even darker button-down and a tie wrapped around his slender neck made him look very professional.

But it was his eyes that stood out the most.

There was something in his gaze that seemed to unnerve her tonight. The warm, hazel orbs that greeted her in the dim light of the bar seemed darker now with a certain intensity engraved in their depth. The man in front of her was different from the man she had left that night. The man who sat alone at the bar didn't have the same air of authority he had at this moment. Spencer Reid after hours was adorable, awkwardly charming, and very much easy to approach.

Dr. Spencer Reid, on the other hand, still managed to keep his calm while being very serious, even after his flustered episode from their unexpected encounter. The soft stubble on his jaw also helped the somber look he was going after, which if she was being completely honest, made him look even more handsome than he already was.

It was a good thing he couldn't read her mind.

"So," she started, crossing a leg on top of the other. "FBI agent, huh?"

He addressed her with a nod. "A profiler, to be exact."

"And what does a profiler do?"

He looked surprised by her interest but managed to explain the nature of his job. "We study and analyze crimes and criminals through an analysis of their behavior to understand the reasoning and motive behind them."

She hummed in response. "You know, I thought you were a medical doctor." Confusion passed across his face before she continued, "You have a lot of certificates."

"...so you do know my name."

"It's hard not to when it's plastered everywhere on your wall."

He paused for a moment, assessing the weight behind her words. "Then why did you call me by the wrong name that night?"

She went completely still. She knew the best way to avoid a question was to throw in another one, so she uncrossed her arms and leaned over the table.

"Why did you pretend like we didn't know each other?"

His body tensed as he felt the discomfort crawling on his skin. The overwhelming feeling of uneasiness and tension wrapped inside him was so intense it was smothering him.

"It is true though," he defended. "We don't know each other very well."

She couldn't stop the scoff slipping out of her mouth. "Ah, yes. I may not know the city you grew up in but I do know what position you like in bed."

"How could you even conclude that?" He choked, clearly dumbfounded by the crude and unexpected comment. "We've only been together once."

"In which you put me on your lap the whole time."

She knew there was a truth in her notion by the way his cheeks slightly flared in embarrassment. He simply cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "Listen, I think it's best we keep what happened that night between us."

"And why is that?"

He finally tore his eyes off her.

How could he explain that something in this occurrence never happened to him without feeling self-conscious? That she was the first person he was sexually involved with no relation whatsoever? That sleeping with a stranger never happened to him in his thirty-five years of life?

And how could he explain he preferred not to share one of the most unforgettable nights of his life with his colleagues? How could he explain he wanted to keep his personal life private without offending her?

But before he could explain himself, she was already jumping to conclusions at his lack of an answer.

"Is it because you're ashamed that a smart, hot-shot FBI agent like you spent a night with a mere journalist like me?"

His eyes went wide. "What? No—"

"Are we done here?" She quickly cut in, suddenly feeling uncomfortable with the weight of his gaze. "Do you have any more questions?"

"Of course, I do—"

"Regarding my witness."

"I..." He frowned, then shook his head. "No, I suppose I don't."

"Great. It was nice talking to you, Dr. Reid."

The bottom of her chair scraped against the hardwood floor as she got up, staggering toward the door. One might say she needed to work on her pettiness, but she had always been stubborn when it came to feeling unreasonable. So before she could leave, she turned on her heel, pointed a finger at him, and narrowed her eyes before she sneered, "And just so you know, do not flatter yourself. You weren't even that good in bed."

She threw him one last glare before stalking toward the door, tugging it with utmost force only to find Morgan standing in the way. "Agent Morgan." A rush of heat coursed through her body. "I believe I can go now?"

He looked between the two of them with curiosity. "Yes, of course. Thank you for your time, Ms. L/n." The menacing look in her eyes beneath her embarrassment urged him to correct himself, "Y/n."

She then left the two men behind with the last thread of dignity she had. It didn't take a trained profiler to understand she left the room fuming with anger.

Spencer watched her leave. A sudden overwhelming sense of shock and disbelief flew through him, leaving him in a state of surprise and confusion. He was so stunned he didn't know how to respond while the woman he wanted nothing more than to follow behind had practically tarnished his self-esteem and bruised his ego.

And to make things worst, his teammate was watching him with intense interest, eyes twinkling with amusement as he leaned against the door frame.

He expected a lot of things to happen tonight, but he did not expect it would end the way it did. Suddenly feeling drained, he slowly got up in a daze. It felt as if he had recently gone through the most amount of emotions he had ever experienced in just one night.

The only way he could forget what had happened—albeit momentarily—was to put his mind on other matters. Like the current case at hand. Like the crime scene a few rooms away. He needed to focus on more important things and he couldn't do that with his friend constantly finding amusement in his misery.

"There are a lot of questions in my head right now, pretty boy."

He stalked toward the door with a newfound resentment. "Good, keep them to yourself."

Morgan's laughter followed him out of the room.

>> NEXT PART

.

taglist

@comboboo @sebastiansstanswhore

a/n: i am today’s years old on finding out that having a taglist is a thing😭 tell me if you want to be added please i am such an amateur on this app.

[quibblyisme]

Please?

Who? Spencer Reid / Reader

Summary: Spencer comes home from a long day at work and needs you

Word count: 1.5k

Warning: Smut, use of "Ma'am, oral (f and m receiving), penitrative sex, bouncing, unprotected sex, idk.

A/n: This is my first smut... kinda nervous. Also I don't have real life experience so go easy on me

Spencer groaned as he opened the door to your shared apartment. He dragged his bags onto the floor and immediately found home on the couch. Hearing the noise, you made your way from the bedroom to see Spencer trying to massage away an oncoming headache.

"Oh baby...." you quickly scooped him up into your arms, running your hand through his hair.

"Work was so long..." He sighed.

"So much paperwork, and I normally love paperwork! But not when I have that trainer asking me questions every two seconds!" Spencer buried his face in the throw pillow.

"...And I missed you" he said in a near whisper. You knew that was the main reason for his mood.

For someone that everyone assumed to be innocent, he sure was horny. Wherever he went, he needed at least one hand on you. If it was in public, it would be an innocent handhold, but in the privacy of your own home, he'd have a hand on your inner thigh or one cupping your breast.

You moved to fully spoon him on the couch, hand splaying across his stomach, practically petting his happy trail. Spencer moved his hand to hold you and pushed himself further against you, signalling he wanted more.

You began to place little kisses across his neck as he played with your fingers, running his fingertips across your light pink colored manicured nails.

"You like them, baby?" You coo.

"Mhm, I like the bow too" He ran his thumb over the little bow charm to show which one he was talking about.

Spencer turned around and wrapped his arms around your torso, nuzzling his head into your neck, smelling the Ms. Dior perfume you always wore.

There you could really feel how much he needed you. You felt the familiar hardness pressing against your abdomen. There he tried subtly grinding against you to rid himself of the growing ache in his pants. He was too shy to ask you for more and was too sleepy to initiate. The grinding relieved a bit of pressure but not at all enough to satisfy him. His grinding was not subtle enough for you to not notice it.

"Sweetie?... Are you hard?" You whispered.

Instead of saying an audible response, he simply nodded into your chest. You picked Spencer up bridal style, carrying him to the bedroom, gently laying him on the bed.

"I'll be back, okay?"

You grabbed something from your dresser and walked into the en suite bathroom. Spencer tried to figure out what you were doing in there. He heard some shuffling and banging in the bathroom before you finally emerged.

Out you came in a light pink chiffon babydoll top. The bottom and neckline were lined in an intricate lace with a white ribbon bow on the middle of the neckline. The fabric cut just barely mid-thigh.

Unconsciously, Spencer started palming himself through his work pants.

"Tsk tsk tsk... shhhh, wait, baby." You slowly crawled on top of him, sitting in his lap, removing his hand from his pants.

As you crawled onto his lap, Spencer caught a view of your panties in the mirror in front of the bed. It was a perfectly white thong. He was salivating at the sight.

"Please," Spencer grabbed your hand, leading it to the tent in his pants.Before he started begging, you shut him up with a kiss... then another... then another.

Spencer eagerly slipped his tongue into your mouth as soon as he got the chance. His hands started mapping your body and eventually landed on your ass, kneading the plush skin. As you kissed him, you slipped his cardigan over his head, followed by unbuttoning his dress shirt.

"Lift your hips, hun." Spencer lifted his hips, trying to keep the connection between your lips. You slipped his pants off, discarding them in the pile of clothes on the floor beside you two.

"Please... touch me now," Spencer begged pathetically.

"Only because you've been a good boy."

You slid down his boxers, and his fully hard erection popped out. It was leaking precum, and the tip was the color of your lip gloss before it was licked off by Spencer.

You ran your thumb over the tip, collecting the cum and running it down the shaft, using it as lube. He whimpered at the touch. You waited for a little bit, watching him try to stay still.

Eventually you started to pump your hand with a teasingly loose grip and pace. Without warning, you dipped your head down, licking a strip of the underside of his dick. You placed a kiss on the tip before speaking:

"Such a big boy, aren't you?" you cooed.

"Mhm... ngh... big boy, yeah," he gripped the bedsheets.

"Please..." He whined.

"Please what? Use your words" You knew he wanted a blow job.

"Suck me off..."That was all you needed to wrap your mouth around the shaft, bobbing your head. Spencer started jerking his hips up, trying to get you to take more of him. You knew his orgasm was coming soon. His whines and moans grew in volume. His toes curled, and his legs grew weaker.

With one final suck and pump, his cum coated your mouth. He moaned at the sight of you swallowing his cum. Spencer let his head fall back as he tried to catch his breath. He wiped the sweat collecting on his forehead with his arm. You sat impatiently between his legs.

"Well...?" You say sassily.

"Hm?" Spencer opened his eyes, looking at your expression.

"Do I get to get off as well?" You scoffed.

Spencer's eyes lit up with excitement. He always loved eating you out. He waited for you to lie on the bed before he got ready. Straddling your hips, he slowly pulled your babydoll off.

He froze for a bit, staring at your tits. He reached a hand out and started massaging one, eyeing the nipple. He licked his lips before moving his head down towards it. He took your nipple in his mouth, playing with the other. Spencer began sucking, kissing, whatever he could do.

Once he ran out of breath, he lifted his head back up to caress your face. With gentle hands, he slowly pulled down your panties, revealing his dessert.

"Wow... you're so wet... for me?" He questioned.

You chuckled at the somewhat innocent nature of his question.

"Of course it's for you. Who else would it be for?" You reassured, holding back another chuckle.

He pouted before moving his head in between your legs. He was lying belly down on the bed, with his hands holding onto your thighs.

You were being impatient and placed a hand on the back of his head, shoving his face into your pussy. There he started to lick your cunt, occasionally flicking his tongue. His hand moved from your thigh to rub gentle circles into your clit.

"Nghh... good... good boy... keep goi—mmmmm."

You could barely speak through your moans. This only gave Spencer more encouragement. He kept eagerly licking and rubbing. He was like a starved man, and your pussy was the only thing he could eat.

"Spencer! I'm gonna... mm... I'm gonna!" You moaned out.

Spencer hummed against you, telling you that he heard you. The humming fully set you off. The orgasm crashed through you like a wave in the sea. Your legs were shaking and weak. Spencer lifted his head from in between your legs. His chin and nose were covered in your cum. He looked up at you with a shy smile.

"Did I do a good job?" He asked, somewhat insecurely.

"Good... good boy" you said, breathlessly.

Spencer, however, wasn't done. You can tell he wanted more; there was a certain glint in his eyes when he looked at you. He was pleading. You sighed before moving Spencer to lie on his back.

You wrapped a hand around Spencer's shaft. Spencer was confused when you didn't move your hand. He soon realized what was going to happen when you straddled his hips. You lined himself up with your entrance before slowly lowering yourself onto him. You let yourself get adjusted and made sure Spencer was comfortable.

"Are you comfy, darling?" You cooed.

"Mhm! Yes, ma'am!"

"Good boy," you said in your sultry voice that always got him going.

Now that you knew that Spencer was comfortable, you started bouncing. You raised your hips and dropped them down. Every single bounce hit your g-spot. Your hands made their place on the bed's headboard, the bed creaking under every drop.

Spencer's eyes were fixated on your tits. He reached a hand out to massage them, while the other slipped behind you to massage your ass.

"A-are you close?" Spencer whimpered out; he was so close.

"Yeah... yeah... almost there."

Finally you felt the familiar tightness in your abdomen and the familiar release. You would have collapsed right on Spencer's chest there, but you had to get him off too. Not shortly after, you felt his warm cum, coating your insides. With shaky legs you lifted yourself off of him, moving to cuddle with him.

"So... still thinking about work?" You teased.

"No... right now I'm thinking about baths." He giggled a bit.

[gghostwriter]

Yours Truly, Romeo

Chapter 3 __ Possible Connection

Spencer Reid x FOC

Summary: Washington, DC - A string of grizzly murders and obsessive love letters causes Olivia and Spencer’s paths to intertwine. With a serial killer proclaiming his undying devotion to her and the thick tension surrounding her and her agent turned bodyguard, Olivia’s life is writing out like a contemporary love story that she, as a successful writer, could see herself publishing.

a/n: yes I used two actual romance book titles in this chapter. Brain was malfunctioning with giving titles so hope that’s alright

Previous chapter || series masterlist || next chapter

"A pair of star-crossed lovers take their life." - Prologue, Romeo & Juliet by William Shakespeare

Olivia was surrounded by police officers riffling through her once safe home. Her solace now invaded with too much testosterone endlessly asking questions as if she had any clue as to who would send her such a horrible thing. Repeatedly saying no until she was blue to her face, she was then told that they had called in the big guns for her case with no explanation as to what they had meant.

And within a few hours, she had figured out what they implied. The FBI had gone and come knocking on her door.

“Hi, Ms. Olivia Hill,” a dark skinned, t-shirt wearing man approached her with a lanky, tall male a few steps behind him. “My name is Agent Derek Morgan, I work for the FBI and this is Dr Spencer Reid. We’d like to ask some questions regarding the letters.”

She dropped her head into her hands, feeling a headache coming. “I’ve already told everything I could to the police officers earlier, I don’t see how me telling it again could be much of help.” 

“Actually, we’d like to know more about the two letters the unsub has sent,” the doe eyed, sweater vest wearing agent clarified. “In both of the letters, he used quotes from Romeo & Juliet by Shakespeare, do you have any idea as to why he’s relating that famous romance write up to you?” 

“Maybe it’s because I’m a writer. Honestly, I don’t know,” she stressed out. “All I do is write romance novels, that’s not a crime nor is it a high risk lifestyle. So why me?” 

Both men shared a look, clearly noting that she was fraying at the seams. Derek silently signaled to Spencer to stay put while he took a look around the house for any leftover clues and to profile the victim. Spencer then proceeded to sit in silence in front of Olivia, hoping his presence would bring a small sense of comfort. 

She was beautiful even when frazzled, taking note of her profile. Her amber eyes speckled with hints of gold framed with red rims no doubt from crying. Wavy chestnut hair with hints of maroon underneath the sunlight entering the study windows. She had the type of subtle beauty that would attract even a stranger walking past the street to do a double take. 

“Have you had a lot of cases like these?” She asked, bringing him back from his musings. 

“Do you mean stalking cases? Yes we’ve had our fair share of stalking cases,” he explained further. “Statistically speaking, an estimate of 13.5 million people are stalked in a one year period and the vast majority of victims are stalked by someone they know—40% by a current or former intimate partner and 42% by an acquaintance.”

She furrowed her eyebrows, clearly intrigued with the agent in front of her. “And how do you know all that? The statistics I mean.”

“It’s based on a government report,” he shrugged nonchalantly. 

“You know, you look a little bit too young to be a Doctor and an FBI agent,” she slightly smiled. “Let me guess, PhD instead of MD, is that right?”

“3 PhDs actually.”

Her eyes widened. “You’re a genius then.” 

“I don’t believe that intelligence can be accurately quantified but I do have an IQ of 187, Ann eidetic memory, and can read 20,000 words per minute,” he stated. “But yes, I’m a genius.” 

“Well then Dr Spencer Reid, do you have a statistic for me on how many of stalking cases get solved without the victim ending up dead?” She questioned as her fingers started drumming on her thighs. 

A nervous tick of hers, he noted. 

“85% of women who reported stalking survive murder attempts with the help of authorities,” He stated reassuringly as the slight smile on her face falls, replaced with a furrowing of her eyebrows. “We’ll keep you safe, there’s nothing to worry about.”

She took a deep breath trying to push the morbid thoughts of being kidnapped and dying out of her scattered mind. “Can you distract me, please? I—I find your voice and ramblings quite comforting.” 

He felt his cheeks and ears warm at that thought. Usually the team found his monologues quite tedious and never lets him finish and here was an attractive stranger telling him otherwise. “You mentioned that you write novels for a living. Any chance I could have read one of them?” 

Her laughter fills the room and warms the deep crevices of his heart. 

“Unless you’re a closeted romance reader, I don’t think so. You strike me as more of a classic literature or academic reading type of guy,” she teased. “A Dostoevsky or Tolstoy type of reader.” 

“You’re right. That's some great profiling,” he bantered back, glad to have successfully distracted the damsel in distress in front of him. “And you're a Bronte or Austen fan."

“Austen. Specifically her work, Emma.” 

He appraised her with a smile. “A true romanticist then.” 

“Well, I am a romance writer after all,” she blushed, heart skipping a beat at his wide boyish grin. Her palms sweaty as she realized her attraction to the genius in front of her even with the frightening scenario that led them to cross paths.

That thought sobered her up. “You mentioned that I might know this unsub—” 

He nodded, silently waiting for her to continue.

“—I played Juliet once for a high school play, do you think that’s why he calls me that in his letters?” 

“Yes—yes that could be the link,” he quickly answered. “Is that an information that anyone near you and your circle would know of?” 

She shook her head. “It’s not something I advertise. I mean, my acting wasn’t great and I was actually just the understudy of the understudy forced to take the role since the actress and her first understudy both got hit with a stomach flu. It’s actually what led me down to the path of writing.” 

“Can you think of anyone who would know that specific detail?” He asked urgently, bringing out his phone ready to contact Garcia for a background check. 

She rambled on the names of her publicist, literary agent and immediate family members.

“Hey Garcia, I need you to run a background check on Olivia’s publicist and literary agent,” Spencer stated over the phone with no time for pleasantries. “See if they have any connection to Maryland.” 

“Maryland?” Olivia repeated under her breath, confusion marring her face as she pondered about the new piece of information that seemed vital for the FBI to note.

She closed her eyes as her mind started to look for a pattern regarding the incomplete information she was privy to. The images, the body parts and her life as she knew it. Like a lightbulb going off on her head, she gasped and quickly rounded to her bookshelf lining the walls of her study.

In the background, Spencer noticed her agitated and hurried actions. “Garcia, I’m going to have to call you back.” 

She pulled out all the printed first draft copies of her books and all its final published version. Flipping them open on the table, she scanned the inks on the pages, comparing the details typed out on her first draft and the missing on the published print, as he approached from behind her.

“Oh god,” she repeated again and again under her breath.

Spencer squeezed her shoulders to stop her from hyperventilating. “I need you to take a deep breath for me—“

She followed, grateful for his presence.

“—and tell me what is, Olivia.” 

“I—I know why he’s doing all of this,” she sobbed out as she tried to unsuccessfully stop the tears from leaking. “It’s me—my writing that he’s basing it on.”

“Your writing?” He clarified, stroking her hair to ease her cries.

“He’s, oh god—uhm—he’s collecting all the characteristics of my male leading characters. But how could he know those details? We edited those out of the published pieces.” 

He held her hand and quickly scanned the opened pages on the table. The light skinned torso clean of any hair from her first book—Lovers of Midnight. The veiny arms and hands from her second book—Love, Theoretically. And the chiseled jawline and high bridge nose from her latest unreleased book—Book Lovers. 

Spencer called Derek back into the study. 

“Reid,” he stated, noting the tears in Olivia’s face and the intertwined hands in between the two occupants of the room with an eyebrow raised. “You have something?” 

He nodded, squeezing Olivia’s hand in his. “I think we have our profile.” 

[sundrop-writes]

Hiii !! I wanted to request a reaction for Derek, Emily and Spencer

When Single Parent! Reader (GN is fine !!) has to bring their daughter to the BAU for a little bit and she won't stop following the Character around and doesn't want to leave "her new friend" when its time to go? Thank you sm in advance if you write it !! 💕💕

i might swing by later with a dif request, this was the first thing my sleep ridden brain blessed me with ;p

I love this so much (I have been in such a parent fic mood since writing the Dad Spence fic, Star thank you so much) - I think this idea is so adorable, I love it!!!

(I wrote Derek's part and then trailed off and left this in my drafts for a few days, so sorry if there's a huge disconnect between the characters' parts. Ooops.)

Requests are currently - OPEN

How would Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss, and Spencer Reid react to your daughter becoming attached to them? (Derek, Emily, and Spencer x GN!Reader)

Warnings: mentions of corporate/white collar crimes (embezzlement, etc.); mentions of the reader being threatened by white collar criminals, mentions of criminals threatening to kill a child; as it says in the title, the reader has a daughter but the reader's gender is not described in any way; surprisingly, for this one, I didn't give the daughter a name. idk, I think that's it. (Edit: now fixed so that the reader is actually fully GN and I am so sorry about the mistake before!!!)

It was a pretty basic case. You were an attorney working on a large company merger - you had found evidence of millions of dollars being embezzled, and when you had copied the files with the intention of bringing them to the IRS, you had started receiving threatening letters. It weighed on your conscience - you knew that the men who ran the company had more than enough money and resources to make you disappear, likely leaving your daughter an orphan, leaving her to wonder what had happened to you for the rest of her life. When you received another letter with photos of your daughter at her preschool attached, now threatening her - you had made your decision fully.

You took your files and evidence to the BAU - you had met Rossi at a seminar he gave, talking about how sociopathy is incredibly common in corporate circles - how sociopaths do very well in corporate jobs due to their driven, goal oriented, emotionless nature. And warning signs to look out for if someone is using those traits to cross into dangerous territory. It was a seminar you had gone to out of curiosity, but you were glad that you had taken his card and you were able to contact him now.

He invited you to the BAU, and the team offered to take your case - to find out who was threatening you and bring them to justice.

Derek found you incredibly beautiful.

He was intrigued by your looks at first, and when Hotch mentioned that someone needed to interview you and get the full details from you in order for the team to get a better perspective on the case, Derek volunteered immediately. He hadn't gotten a full briefing - too eager to get to talk to you.

He came into the room with a bottle of water for you, looking to comfort you with his smile and his charms, and he was surprised when Penelope came back into the room and a small girl came barreling toward you, incredibly excited to tell you that she had gotten M&Ms from the vending machine (which Penelope had taken her to).

Typically, Derek didn't go for people who had kids. Any other time, with any other person - it would have immediately turned him off. It would have dampened your attractiveness in his eyes. He generally had a 'no single parents' policy, because he thought that dating someone with kids was just a lot of baggage. But seeing you - he was immediately taken with you. And seeing you with your daughter, somehow made you instantly more attractive.

And he thought the way that you scooped your daughter up into your lap and let her feed you M&Ms with her chubby little fingers was all too cute. It was unprofessional, but the case definitely wasn't the only thing on his mind that day.

Penelope took your daughter out of the room again while Derek interviewed you, and it was only when you spoke of the fear you felt for your daughter - the potential of her being her by the anonymous person, that you actually teared up. Derek couldn't help but to pull you in close, holding you tight in an effort to comfort you (secretly loving how tightly you hugged him back) - and it was in that moment that he vowed to himself that he would do whatever it took to protect you and your child. He would always keep the two of you out of harm's way.

And he certainly tried his hardest to accommodate your daughter when he found out that the two of you would be sticking around the office for the day - to ensure that you would be protected until the team found out who had sent the threats. He got her a kids meal with a toy when he ordered lunch, he knew there wasn't much in the office in the way of "toys" - but he swung by Garcia's office borrowed something she had that was fuzzy and lights up (with the promise of returning it) and he scrounged up a blank pad of paper and some coloured pens so your daughter could have something to do.

It wasn't surprising when she excitedly ran over to his desk and gave him a picture she had drawn of him - a very cartoonish muscled man with his same facial hair and an eggish bald head. His exaggerated features in the picture made you and Morgan laugh, and before you left the BAU for the day (when your safety was assured and the local police were on their way to arrest the men who had made the threats to you) - you found a different pen and wrote your number on the bottom corner of the picture for him.

He knew that something in you had changed him when he started thinking about taking you on a first date in the park - something your daughter could enjoy as well, rather than considering what bar or late night restaurant he was going to take you to.

Emily was surprised by the entire thing.

She hadn't been around children since, well - she was one. Due to events in her past, and due to the way her mother treated her, she never imagined herself being a parent. Ever. She was someone who thought that she was just naturally terrible with kids, like her own mom was. She hadn't met the person she thought that she could settle down with, so she never thought that kids were in the cards for her. So it definitely caught her off guard when your daughter seemed to take to her like a duck to water.

It was in her natural instinct to comfort you. You were so shaken up about the whole thing, the anonymous danger lurking in your life - and she took some extra time to assure you that things were going to be okay, that the team was the best, and they were going to catch whoever was doing this.

She thought it was a natural kindness to get down on your daughter's level and ask what she was playing with, to compliment her cute little doll and then take her down the hallway to grab a snack to give you a few minutes to breathe. The little girl was sweet and Emily didn't mind spending some extra time with her.

On their way back along, your daughter plucked a crossword puzzle book off Emily's desk and asked what it was, and Emily explained it - so then she took a few minutes to find some crosswords for children online and printed them out, and when she came to delivery them, alone with some pens, your daughter enthusiastically asked if Emily would sit and 'show her' - and while you said that Emily was busy and had other work to do, Emily shrugged and said she had a few minutes to spare. Again, she thought it was common manners, sitting with the girl on her lap while she guided her through the puzzles, praising her intellect when she got the answers right.

She didn't see the way you were looking at the pair, pure affection bubbling up in your eyes.

When the day was over, and it was cleared as safe for you and your daughter to return home, the little girl let out a loud complaint that she didn't want to leave her 'new friend Emily' - and Emily couldn't have predicted the way that those words tugged at something in her chest. She didn't know what led her to kneeling down at the girl's level, promising to see her that weekend when she had a free day - that was, if you didn't mind. Getting nothing but a bright smile from you, and feeling a certain spark there.

(She had to resist the urge to punch Morgan in the ribs when she walked back to her desk to nothing but teasing, how she was getting 'the whole family package' on 'her first date'.)

Spencer found the whole thing (secretly) adorable.

It is no secret that Spencer loves kids. He is very good with kids, and it's clear by the way he acts around kids that he definitely wants kids of his own someday. He hasn't met 'the one' yet - the person that he's going to have kids with. Whether that's through the natural, old-fashioned way or through adoption. But he did always imagine that if he raised kids of his own, it would be from infancy.

He never imagined that the person he was meant to be with would stumble into his life with a child that was already walking and talking - but when he met you and your daughter, it felt so right. Even if the circumstances were a bit dark.

He interviewed you about the whole situation, and when you apologized for crying and getting emotional, he was quick to assure you that it was natural - you were shaking, and though Spencer was usually someone to avoid touch, he found his need to hold you so overwhelming. He didn't regret his choice to wrap his arms around you when you hugged him back tightly.

When your daughter burst into the room (no longer occupied making paper airplanes with Emily and JJ), she was quick to ask why you were crying, extending out a small chubby finger to point at you, seemingly warbling with half-baked tears of her own at seeing you so upset. Spencer knelt down and assured her that everything was going to be okay, and then he moved to distract her by taking the little paper airplane out of her hand and telling her that he knew a trick to make it fly so much farther.

And he did. It was simple aerodynamics and folding techniques. And then they stood near the top of the bullpen, silently trying to get Morgan to look up by flying planes onto his desk - and the man couldn't bring himself to get too mad when he heard childish giggling coming from your daughter every few minutes.

You truly felt those butterflies for Spencer turn into more when he showed your daughter a trick that ended with a fake flower somehow coming out of his sleeve - something feathery and pink that he tucked behind her ear for her to keep, having her smiling and laughing brightly on a day where you had been wracked with worry, fearing for her life.

By the time the day was over and both of your safety was assured, you weren't surprised that she didn't want to leave him. And you made the bold move, telling him (rather than asking him) - that he should come over for dinner and a movie on Saturday, and then leaning over to gently whisper in his ear that the two of you could enjoy a another, more adult flick after your daughter was tucked into bed. Your daughter was too excited at the prospect of seeing Spencer again, tugging on his pant leg, waiting for him to agree - and he was speechless at the implications of what you had said.

He couldn't even think of the word 'no' if he tried.

So, it was a date, then.

Criminal Minds Masterlist